


Skin Deep

by gutterflower



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 89,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutterflower/pseuds/gutterflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abigail finds ghouls to be terrifying, but there's something different about the residents of Goodneighbor.  Lots of Sole Survivor + Hancock fluff.  Possible smut in future chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Goodneighbor

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com)]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Skizoh](http://skizoh.tumblr.com)]

The man's grip tightened around Abby's neck.

"Two hundred caps or things get bloody," he threatened. Abby couldn't help but crack a smile, in spite of the pain. Here she was, bleeding out in front of this man, and he was threatening... what exactly? More blood, perhaps?

"Fuck you," she managed to choke out. It was difficult to breathe, let alone speak. She could hear Dogmeat growling nearby. The poor thing was injured just as badly as his master, his condition being the only thing keeping him from ripping out the man's throat. Abby found her concern lay more with the dog's injuries than her own. He had saved her - a woman who had once made it her goal to try and save animals. The irony was not lost on her.

The man leaned in against her ear, grinning. "Would love for you to, but that won't get you out of payin' up," he murmured. Her stomach churned. Fuck him for taking advantage of her situation. If she hadn't been through hell getting here - if she hadn't had broken bones and a puddle of blood forming under her - she would have shot a hole through his head already. As it were, she could barely muster the strength to struggle. She hated this. She hated him. She even hated herself for getting into this situation. She was stronger than this - smarter than this. She wasn't some helpless damsel, after all. _Fuck him_.

Suddenly, a raspy voice yelled out, melting the man's grin into a scowl.

"Whoa, whoa, time out!" the voice ordered. The man's grip loosened enough from around Abby's neck to allow her to turn her head in the direction of the voice. Her eyes widened in terror as they settled on a ghoul that was approaching them.

In her mind, he first appeared as terrifying as the ferals she had encountered in the Wasteland. The skin looked melted away, giving him the appearance of a living corpse - a monster out of the old zombie movies she watched as a child. After the initial shock of seeing him, however, the rest of his appearance registered: a large, tricorn hat paired with a long, red coat. It reminded her of the outfits they used to wear at her school's Founder's Day plays when she was younger. The ridiculousness of his appearance seemed to be enough to calm her initial panic, though she wondered if the blood loss also had something to do with it. It was hard for her to feel much at this point, as she struggled to not pass out.

The ghoul spoke again in an irritated tone. "Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest! You lay off that extortion crap!" he scolded the man. The man sneered, looking unpleased with the order.

"What d'you care? She ain't one of us!" he snapped back. The ghoul sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them, shaking his head.

"No love for your mayor, Finn?" he asked the man, tone not raising, but simply repeating it's initial emphasis. "I _said_ let her go."

The man spat on the ground, glaring at the ghoul. His grip loosened on Abby, causing her to stumble. Her legs felt like noodles as they gave way from under her. She managed to keep from falling flat on her ass by supporting her back against the wall, sliding down instead.

"You're soft, Hancock. You keep lettin' outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor!" the man, who had been called Finn, threatened. The ghoul - what did the man call him? Hancock? - strolled closer.

"C'mon, man, this is me we're talking about! Let me tell you something..." Hancock said as he approached. He made a friendly gesture to Finn, as though he were about to hug the man. Instead, in a flash, a knife came out from behind the ghoul's back. He thrust the blade into Finn again and again, finally stepping back and letting the extortionist fall dead to the ground.

"Now why'd ya have to go and say that, huh?" Hancock asked the corpse, shaking his head. "Breakin' my heart here!"

Abby's head began to pound even more, her heart speeding up in response to what she had just witnessed. She scrambled in an attempt to get up, her knees shaking uncontrollably as she managed to at least find her footing. She was pretty certain her right leg was broken, but she wasn't about to sit idly by after watching a ghoul gut a man. Hancock looked down at her, frowning.

"You alright, sister?" he asked.

She opened her mouth, but her words faltered. As she tried to take a step, dizziness overtook her. Darkness surrounded her as she blacked out from blood loss.

A moment later, she felt the sensation of being carried. She opened her eyes, her head still pounding. Sure enough, the ghoul had her in his arms, gently but firmly holding onto her. She was wrapped in warm material. She looked down to see crimson. Her own blood? No... it was that coat of his. She almost would have felt bad about ruining something that elaborate in design, if she didn't feel like fainting again.

"Hey, hang in there - I got ya," the ghoul murmured to her, upon noticing that she was conscious.

"Wh-where.....?" she stuttered.

"A doctor - where else?" Hancock answered, already guessing at her question. "Just relax, sister, I got ya."

Abby made a motion in an attempt to nod, but ended up passing out again as the world seemed to spin around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((This is my first attempt at posting a public fanfic since I was a teen, so please bare with me here... constructive [but polite!] criticism welcome ;^^))  
> 


	2. The World She Was In

In another world, perhaps Abby would have been less trusting. In another world, perhaps she would have been more confident - not questioning herself constantly. More cold, calm, and collected - slower to react. The type of person who would put that law degree to good use and become a powerful attorney, rather than someone who questioned how they had managed to make it through school in the first place without many panic attacks.

Then again, in another world, perhaps the bomb wouldn't have dropped.

This was not the world Abby wanted, but it was the one she was in. Three months had passed since she had left Vault 111. She had spent most of that time helping transform the rubble of her old neighborhood into Sanctuary, a refuge for those in need. She possessed no experience with carpentry or metalwork, but the Minutemen did what they could to teach her how to turn junk into a half decent place to live. She still carried her share of emotional wounds that were in the process of healing, but having something to focus on helped numb the pain. Sometimes she wondered if she could perhaps just forget her former life. If she were to focus her efforts solely on building, maintaining, and protecting Sanctuary, her life wouldn't exactly be in vain. Mourning wasn't going to bring Nate back, and her chances of finding Shaun in the middle of the hellhole the Commonwealth had become were extremely slim. Perhaps the easiest plan was to just stay put and help those who were there in front of her.

But then the night would come and the horrors her mind kept secure would show themselves. She hated sleep just for this very reason. That vault... the face of the man who had taken the only things that had truly mattered to her. Even if she couldn't find Shaun, she had made a promise to Nate to avenge him. She never negated on her promises. She would find that man, and she would make him beg for her mercy. Abby was a very sympathetic person, but what that man had done? She couldn't recall ever wanting blood to spill so badly in her life.

So she had set off for Diamond City. It was the only lead she had - if following the ramblings of a drugged up old woman could be considered a lead. Preston had wanted to accompany her, worried for her newness in the wastelands. While Abby had proven herself on more than one occasion, he knew there were still horrors out there that she had yet to encounter. She refused, however. Sanctuary needed him more than she did. She wouldn't risk the lives of other people just to feel comfortable. Besides, she wasn't entirely alone - Dogmeat shadowed her steps, ever loyal. The road to Boston had not been too difficult. She had some run-ins with giant bugs, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. She did feel guilty pumping bullets into the beasts - after all, she had gotten her law degree in the first place so that she could seek justice for those creatures that had no voice. She had to remind herself that this was a different world than the one she had left behind. Here, it was survival of the fittest. She would show mercy whenever the opportunity presented itself, but when something was clearly trying to make lunch out of her? Some things just couldn't be helped.

Upon reaching the Boston city limits, everything went to hell. Rubble was everywhere, as were raiders, super mutants, and feral ghouls. Ghouls. Of all the things she had encountered so far, they were perhaps the creatures that caused her to freeze up in terror the most. From a distance, a sleeping ghoul looked just like a corpse. Once they were aware of her presence, she found herself swarmed by them. There was never just one. No, they seemed to travel in packs like wild dogs. She had found zombies in movies to be scary enough, but at least the ones portrayed on the silver screen had usually been slow. Ghouls were different. They were fast - too fast.  She feared them more than anything else when she bedded down for the night. The sound, the smell, the emptiness reflected in their eyes... she would rather face another deathclaw than wade through ghoul territory.

Sturges had told her that there were non-feral ghouls out there - sentient ones that were just trying to make a living. Some were even from the pre-war days. Abby secretly hoped that she never ran into anybody she knew from her old life who may have been ghoul-a-fied. She didn't know if she could even look at them if that were to happen. Ghouls frightened her to no end, and she would count herself lucky to never run into another one ever again.

Of course, luck was not exactly something she seemed to have much of as she tried to find her way through Boston. She had seen on her Pip Boy just how far off course she had wandered, yet she could rarely find a break in the rubble and fighting to steer closer to her destination. The breaking point came after hearing a cry for help.

"My baby! Someone please help! She'd injured badly! Please!" a woman, presumably the mother, cried out in distress.

Nate had always teased Abby for being too trusting, but how could she just ignore the pleas? So she rushed in, not even giving it a second thought. The result had been a blow to the back of her head. The entire thing had been a trap set by raiders. The woman had been in on it - a raider disguised as a desperate mother. Fortunately, Dogmeat had his owner's back. When Abby came to, she found her companion shredding the arm of one of the raiders. She used the distraction to grab a knife off of one of the men, cutting her way through her attackers until she got her hands on a rifle. From there on out, it had been nice clean headshots.... until the Super Mutants had shown up. After everything was said and done, Abby was left bloodied and bruised. Her right leg couldn't seem to support her weight anymore and her left hand felt fractured. In addition, her head had experienced even more trauma than the initial blow the raiders had given her, and she found it difficult to breathe. She was pretty sure she had a broken rib or two and could only hope that nothing had gotten punctured in the process. Enough blood dripped behind her to make her worry about passing out before she could get help. Dogmeat was also in bad shape, limping along after her. She had originally filled her bag with stimpaks, but the raiders must have emptied it. Only a few caps and random trinkets remained - something that surprised her, as she would have guessed the caps would have been the first things to disappear. She didn't have time to go searching for the stimpaks, hearing more noise and knowing that reinforcements for both the raiders and the mutants were incoming.

And so Abby used the rifle to steady herself as she limped the last few blocks, arriving unexpectedly at Goodneighbor. The neon sign seemed welcoming enough. Staying outside where she would no doubt die on the pavement was not exactly an option, so in she went. It was a decision she would soon find herself questioning.


	3. Ghouls. Why Did It Have To Be Ghouls?

Abby opened her eyes, her body aching at every little movement. She found herself lying in a bed, soft sheets covering her. The room looked rather clean, or at least as clean as she had seen so far in the Wastelands. She attempted to get up, but the throbbing in her leg put an end to that idea.

"Take it easy," an old, crackly voice said nearby. She glanced over to see a female ghoul sitting in a chair next to the bed. The injured Vault Dweller inhaled sharply, her heart jumping in alarm. She let out a cry as her hand jerked too far, pulling against the IV that was attached to it.

"Calm down - I'm not going to hurt you!" the ghoul insisted in a soothing tone. Abby twitched a little, but managed to settle back down. Her eyes were still wide in terror as she stared at the ghoul. The ghoul merely smiled back, however, her expression warm. "I told them it was probably a bad idea to have me watch you - that you'd just wake up screaming," she laughed, moving to hand Abby a glass of water. Abby didn't protest, but her hand shook as she held the glass, getting most of the liquid on her lap rather than in her mouth. She was thirsty enough to not pass up the offer. The water was lukewarm, but cleaner to the taste than the stuff she had been drinking for the past few weeks. After finishing off the glass, she looked over at the woman, still seeming on edge.

"You're a.... a.... " Abby stuttered.

"Ghoul?" the woman finished, still rather cheerful in her demeanor. Abby nodded. The woman merely looked amused. "I'm surprised you even know what a ghoul is - you look like you just stumbled out of the vault yesterday," she teased. Abby made a face.

"How did you know I was from a vault....?" she asked. The ghoul pointed to a neatly folded stack of clothes nearby. "Oh...." Abby murmured in embarrassment, realizing the obviousness of her vault-tec suit. Her eyes then widened as she looked down to find that she was wearing little more than bandages and undergarments beneath the blankets. She blushed, eyes shooting back over to the woman.

"Oh, come, deary, it's not like I haven't seen it before," the woman laughed. Abby ducked her head.

"Uh.... Yeah.... " she replied sheepishly. The woman leaned forward in her chair, stretching out her hand.

"The name's Daisy," she introduced. Abby hesitated for a moment. "Well, c'mon, dear, it's not contagious," Daisy teased. Abby forced a smile, reaching out and taking the hand.

"Ab.... Abigail.... " she replied back, just barely above a whisper. She had yet to decide what she thought of the ghoul yet, and she only allowed those close to her call her 'Abby'.

"Well met, Abigail," Daisy replied. "You gave our mayor quite the surprise yesterday, showing up like that," she chuckled.

"Showing up.....?" Abby questioned, head still hurting too much for her liking.

"Bleeding out like that? Now, it's not that he's not used to that sort of thing, but normally people wait until _after_ the introductions to start dying around here," Daisy mused.

Abby's face felt warm. She wondered how red it must have appeared at that moment. "Oh.... I'm... Sorry...." she muttered under her breath, staring down at her hands.

Daisy laughed again. "Don't be - we just don't see many of _your_ type around here. Most of them probably end up radroach food when they step out of the vaults!"

Abby shook her head. "I was.... Careless..." she replied. "If it hadn't been for..." her gaze shot up as she looked around frantically. "Shit - where's Dogmeat?!" she asked, voice now raised.

"Relax, settle down, your dog is fine," Daisy reassured her. "It wasn't anything a stimpack couldn't fix. Much better than your condition, anyway," she mused.

Abby leaned back in the bed, letting out a sigh of relief. She still felt overly warm. Did this place have a heater?

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Abby quickly pulled the blankets up under her chin as Daisy answered the door.

Standing on the other side of the doorway was Hancock. He wore the same outfit as the previous time she had seen him - the long, red coat with the black, tricorn hat. If she hadn't remembered him using the coat to stem the bleeding, she almost would have thought the clothes were sewn into his very skin.

Hancock looked over Daisy's head, spotting Abby. As their gaze met, he smiled.

"Well look who's awake," he proclaimed in an amused tone. Abby wanted to force a smile, but she still wasn't so sure. She was alone in a room with two ghouls. She didn't like the idea of this situation. Even worse, she had watched this very ghoul stab a man to death in front of her. Instead of replying, she just sank a little back under the covers. Hancock's smile relaxed a touch, making him appear more concerned than anything else.

"Hey, Daisy, could you be a doll and fetch that pooch of hers?" he asked. Daisy nodded, leaving the two alone. Hancock closed the door after Daisy left. He walked over to the chair that she had previously occupied. He turned it around, sitting with the chair's back tucked up under his elbows, arms crossed atop. Abby sank even further into her bedsheets.

"So how're ya holdin' up?" he asked, casually.

"I... uh.... like... I was hit over the head, stabbed, and shot a few times....?" she murmured back. Hancock laughed.

"Sounds like an apt description, according to the doc," he replied. "So tell me - how long you been out of that vault of yours?"

Abby thought for a moment before replying back, "Maybe three months....? I don't really know.... I mean, the Pip Boy tracks time but I don't really notice it anymore..."

"A whole three months and you're still alive?" Hancock asked. "I have to say, I'm impressed. Most blues wouldn't last a day out there."

Abby felt even warmer, but not in the good sense. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she snipped back, voice now much louder. Hancock grinned.

"I don't doubt that," he replied, reaching up and tilting his hat back.

"I don't need your fucking sarcasm," she retorted bitterly, sitting up more in bed. The ghoul let out another raspy laugh.

"Sarcasm? Sister, I sent my men to check out where you came from. Had such a long blood trail to follow, I'm surprised you even had a drop left in ya," he snorted. "You made good work of those raiders. Sloppy, but not bad."

Abby relaxed a little, feeling embarrassed for her outburst. "Oh... well... I mean... they set a trap..." she explained, voice lowered back to barely above a whisper.

"Must've been a good one," Hancock mused.

"They had a woman... she was screaming about her kid..." Abby recalled. Hancock's smile melted from one of amusement to a more sympathetic expression.

"You need to be more careful out there," he lectured. "This place ain't the vault - people will do anything to get their mitts on a few caps."

Abby glanced around for a moment. "Speaking of which... where's my bag...?" she wondered. Hancock got up, walking over to the neat stack of laundry. He pulled a small bag out of the pile and tossed it over to her.  She put her hands up instinctively, but found it was much lighter than usual when she caught it.

"It's.... empty....?" she asked. Hancock shrugged.

"Getting a one-of-a-kind outfit like this cleaned?" he asked, swishing his red coat a touch, "It ain't cheap - especially getting out blood stains."

She ducked her head. "I... um... well... nobody asked you to use it as a tourniquet...." she muttered irritably.

"You really gonna argue about me saving your life?" he asked, eyebrow arched - or at least where it would have arched if he still had eyebrows.

Abby didn't reply. She felt droplets of sweat pouring down her back. Why was it so warm...?

"Hey, kid? You don't look so good.... I mean, apart from the banged up bits," he noted, walking over to her bed. He reached over, touching the back of his hand to her forehead. She tried to pull away, but her head was swimming. Hancock's leathery hand felt cool to the touch, causing her body to react the opposite of her mind, leaning into it and longing for relief from the heat.

"Shit, you're burnin' up..." he hissed. About that time, Daisy opened the door, Dogmeat in tow. The canine padded up to the bed, wagging his tail halfheartedly, as though somewhere between excited to see his master, but concerned for her.

"Something wrong?" Daisy asked as she noticed the expression on Hancock's face.

"Bad fever," he explained.

"Should I get the doctor?" Daisy asked. Hancock nodded.

"Yeah - I'll give her another dose of Med-X in the meantime..."

"Med-X....?" Abby murmured. "You.... you drugged me....?"

"We're kind of slim on options, Sunshine," Hancock retorted. Abby closed her eyes, wincing from the pounding in her head. It hurt enough that she barely felt more than a pinch at her arm as Hancock gave her another dose of the anesthetic. She heard footsteps walking out into the hallway - presumably Daisy's. She didn't open her eyes, however, simply slipping back into slumber.


	4. Job Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bethesda makes everything my Sole Survivor says in-game turn out sounding cool and confident, which almost makes me feel bad for turning her into a babbling, awkward duck..... Almost.)

Even with stimpaks, it took Abby a few weeks to recover. Her condition had been even worse than she realized. She had initially been against the idea of using chems, but the pain soon proved to be more than she could handle. She began to feel grateful every time she received a shot of Med-x. She still at least made a small fuss about it, making it clear to Hancock that this was not her normal cup of tea. Hancock noticed, however, that she had become much more relaxed about taking the chem. For someone who was vocal about not liking it, she sure was on point in remembering when it was time for her next dose.  

Dogmeat had scarcely left her side since she had been there. She often woke to find him curled up near the foot of the bed, sometimes propping his head up on her uninjured leg. He was very protective, always looking alert anytime someone came to the door. He seemed to trust the ghouls enough, not being bothered by their presence. He would wag his tail when Hancock came to visit, making her suspect that perhaps the mayor was feeding her dog scraps when she was asleep.

She envied Dogmeat for being able to ignore what Daisy and Hancock were, though she found that she was slowly starting to warm up to the idea of non-feral ghouls. She still had difficulty looking at them for too long. The missing nose, the sunken flesh – it still had the ability to make her twitch inside. She couldn’t deny, however, that the two ghouls she encountered on a daily basis had more heart than most smoothskins she knew.

Daisy was as sweet as a cinnamon bun, if not overly sarcastic at times. She had taken to wearing a surgical mask after Abby fell asleep so that the squeamish woman wouldn’t be startled when she woke up to find a ghoul sitting nearby. It hadn’t been an intentional reaction – Abby would simply wake up and forget for a brief moment where she was, or who she was with. It was worse when she woke from night terrors. She would always apologize profusely to Daisy, but the ghoul understood. It took some getting used to, and she wasn’t one to be offended over a reaction that was hard to control. There was a motherly charm about her that was almost nostalgic. Adding to even more nostalgia were the stories from pre-war, finally giving Abby someone who understood the world she came from.

And then there was Hancock. Hancock… well, he certainly had a charismatic personality that overshadowed his appearance. She didn’t quite understand why he took any interest in her well-being. Surely a mayor had better things to do than spend so much time chatting up some stranger? Daisy had said it was because she was a vault dweller. He normally stood up for new people in town, but someone like that? He seemed even more protective about those he assumed didn’t know what they were getting into. That mindset frustrated Abby, admittedly. Sure, there was a certain degree of shock at seeing the world in the state it was now, but she at least had done well enough in waiting until she was in a safe place before breaking down. She wasn’t quite as defenseless as most people who emerged from the vaults.

Hancock never stuck around when Abby was asleep. He preferred to wait until she was awake to come by and relieve Daisy of her watch duty. He seemed curious about Abby’s life – what things were like before the war. Sometimes the questions got a little annoying.

“Why don’t you just ask Daisy? She was there,”Abby would question.

“Fresh set of eyes,” he would reply. “For her, it’s been two hundred years. For you, it’s only been a few months.”

And so she would tell him everything she could think of about pre-war times, or at least the parts that meant the most to her. She would talk about life as a military brat, about her passion for animals, about how she had become an attorney to help represent various organizations in cruelty cases. She spoke about meeting Nate, their lives together up to and including marriage. About Shaun and how he had been abducted from the vault. One thing she always left out of her stories, however, was Nate’s death. Hancock silently noticed the absence of her husband’s fate. He could easily guess that the man was probably deceased, given that she never spoke about him waiting for her back in Sanctuary. He never asked her what happened, however. If it was something she didn’t feel like bringing up, he certainly wasn’t going to push her. He understood as well as anyone the feeling of wanting to leave certain parts of one’s past forgotten.

As time passed, She began to move around her room more. Occasionally she would make her way down to the lobby of the hotel she was staying in. She was careful to not over exert herself, knowing that pushing too hard could make things worse. She used the crutch that had been given to her, but after awhile she found she didn’t have much need for it anymore. Her hand still ached off and on, but it wasn’t anything Med-x wouldn’t solve. She almost worried that she had become addicted to the chem, but was still in too much pain at night to simply quit using it.

She finally reached the point where she knew she needed to move on. The problem she had was a noticeable lack of caps. She needed supplies to leave Goodneighbor, but she needed caps to buy supplies. She couldn’t protest too much – the medical treatments and lodging hadn’t been charged to her. Whenever she brought up the concern, she was simply told it was ‘taken care of’. She knew the caps that had been taken from her were nowhere near enough to cover the costs she had accrued over the past few weeks, making it difficult to be mad at the mayor for taking possession of them in the first place. Of course, that still didn’t solve her dilemma.

“Maybe you should ask around the Third Rail?” Daisy suggested. “There are people always looking for a hired hand there.”

Abby didn’t like the idea of hanging out in a club, but she didn’t exactly have any better ideas. And so one evening, she found herself walking into the Third Rail. The first face to greet her was the bouncer – a ghoul. She kept her gaze downward as she walked by.

“Boss says you’re good to come in,” he stated as she moved past him. She nodded quietly, cringing a little from a feeling of guilt. He was probably a nice person, too. Why did she have to feel so squicked out over something he couldn’t help?

Things didn’t fair any better as she set foot in the bar itself. Most of the patrons there were ghouls. She tried to keep her cool, calmly reminding herself that they were just like her – normal people who weren’t going to try and chew her arm off. Of course, that didn’t keep her face from turning bright red from nervousness. She didn’t like crowds, so being in a packed place with people who caused a knee-jerk fear response didn’t settle very well with her.

She picked a seat at the bar, settling down. She tried to look interested in the lounge singer. While the music was down her alley and the singer certainly visually appealing, Abby's mind couldn’t have been any further from her gaze. Her thoughts were interrupted by gruff voice.

“Here’s a drink, courtesy of the boss,” the Mr. Handy tending to the bar said as he placed a beer in front of her. Her face lit up, having been too distracted to notice the bartender when she entered.

“You’re a robot!” she exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

“Really? You mean I’m not a radroach?” he replied in an annoyed tone.

“I mean…. Well… you're only the second Mr. Handy I've run into since leaving the vault,” she continued, either oblivious to the bartender’s irritation or ignoring it altogether.

“Lucky me,” he replied. “Look, you gonna drink that or babble all night?”

She looked down at the drink, blushing. “Oh…. Right…. Wait – you said someone bought this for me?”

“Yeah, the boss seems to have a thing for newcomers… the hell if I know why,” the machine grumbled, turning his attention back to wiping down glasses.

Abby looked around, spotting Hancock across the room. He was sitting at a table, a couple of attractive ladies and a handsome gentleman sitting rather close to him. The four of them seemed to be having a combination of drinks and chems, empty containers of jet and mentats littering their table. Enough hands were wandering to give one a good idea of what their intentions were. A tall woman stood nearby, expression stoic. Abby assumed that the woman must have been Fahrenheit, Hancock’s bodyguard. He had made mention of her to Abby a few times, and she was at least aware that the woman often stood out in the hallway during the mayor’s visits to her room. Fahrenheit gave Abby a cold stare that made her rather uncomfortable.

Hancock, on the other hand, grinned and gave a casual wave as Abby’s gaze drifted over to him. She smiled back, returning the gesture. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach when observing his smile. It felt different than her normal fear she had initially felt with him, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to place it. There was a certain degree of familiarity to the feeling, which both surprised and frightened her. She found it best to just keep it buried deep down, unacknowledged. It was most likely the Med-X talking, after all. Fortunately, Hancock was clearly occupied with the people at his table, giving her an excuse to simply stay put.

“Fucking player…. “ she muttered under her breath.

“Sorry, miss, you’re gonna have to speak up – my sound sensors have a hard time picking up over the music,” the bartender quipped. Abby sighed, looking back to the robot.

“Nothing.... Just… does he come in here often with people like that?” she wondered.

“What do I look like? A gossip dispenser?” he asked.

“Well….” she grinned, “Now that you mention it… aren’t bartenders supposed to be good conversationalists?”

“They don’t pay me enough for that,” he replied.

“Do they pay you at all…?”

“….. You really wanna know the story behind those three?” he responded, changing the topic, “Mayor Hancock has power. Power, caps, and chems. You have those things? You’d be bloody popular, too.”

Her smile faded as she glanced back over at the table. “Do those things really mean that much to people…?” she wondered.

“Welcome to the Commonwealth. You ain’t in the vault anymore, kid,” he replied, turning to grab another glass.

Abby looked down at the bottle in front of her. Truthfully, she had never been one for beer. She preferred lighter, fruitier drinks. ‘Girly drinks,’ as Nate would call them, trying to tease her before she would point out that he had no qualms stealing the pineapples and maraschino cherries from whatever she ordered. It was still less awkward to choke down the drink than to just sit there looking stupefied. She lifted the bottle to her lips, tilting it up as though to guzzle it like soda. This resulted in her spewing the bitter liquid all over the bar in front of her. She coughed uncontrollably, having inhaled some of the beer in the process. She felt tears forming in her eyes as she continued to cough, finally getting her breathing back under control. She didn’t dare look up from the bar, her face bright red as she swore she could feel the stares of everyone in the Third Rail landing squarely on her. She sank down in her chair, wishing she could just turn invisible or disappear.

A glass of water was set down in front of her. She looked up to see the bartender.

“Well, I was going to wait until you were all liquored up to start talking business,” he noted, “But since that _clearly_ isn’t going to happen, you want a job or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thank you for all the kudos, comments, feedback, bookmarks, ect! You guys have no idea how nervous I was when I threw up those first 3 chapters - the response has been so amazing to me! I hope I don't disappoint with this one, and hope to get to work on the next one as soon as possible. Thank you again, you're all amazing and wonderful people!)


	5. New Fears Realized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I was going to progress the plot more, but then my hand slipped and there was fluff... OH WELL.)

Abby could hear her footsteps echoing on the warehouse floor. The air was thick and flakes of dust danced around the few sources of light that could be found in the building. She kept a tight grip on her rifle, wondering where Dogmeat had vanished to. She heard scratching coming from nearby. She carefully crept around the corner, only to come face to face with a feral ghoul.

The creature screamed in her face, clawing at her. She let out a shriek of her own, stumbling backwards. She tightened her finger around the trigger, pumping bullet after bullet into the ghoul. Others shuffled into view from the shadows. She scrambled to get up, shooting at anything that moved. Soon, everything was still and quiet. She felt her heart pounding, but the moment of terror seemed to be over.

Suddenly, she heard a voice groaning nearby. She scanned the corpses, looking for the source. Her heart sank down to the pit of her stomach as she saw a red coat. Hancock. He looked up at her, blood everywhere.

“No no no no….!” she choked out, rushing over to him. The gleam in his eyes went dark as his head lulled back. Abby trembled, feeling ill as she reached out, placing a hand to his cheek and patting it in an attempt to coax him to respond. “I didn’t… you weren’t supposed to….!” she choked out as she tried shaking him in vain. She had mistaken him for a feral. This was her fault. Despair swept over as she continued to try and wake him, knowing full well that he wasn't going to get back up.

A cold, wet sensation touched her arm, followed by the sound of whimpering.

She opened her eyes, finding herself in bed. Dogmeat was next to her, nosing at her arm in concern. She sat up and looked around, discovering that she was in her hotel room. Everything was dark, save for a small bit of light leaking through the window from an outside streetlamp. She was still shaking, even after the realization that it had all been just a horrible night terror.

Dogmeat continued to nuzzle at his human until she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his fur.

“Thank God it was just a dream…. “ she mumbled against him.

After taking time to collect herself, she got up, turning on the radio to help calm her nerves. She began to sort through her belongings to take her mind off of the dream. She now had enough caps and supplies that she could leave Goodneighbor. The job that the bartender, who had eventually introduced himself as Whitechapel Charlie, had given her was simple enough, but to Abby it seemed morally questionable at the time. Charlie’s benefactor wanted her to clear out three warehouses, quickly and quietly. There were to be no survivors. It took some convincing for her to take the job, including the reassurance that the people on the hit list were just as bad – if not worse – than raiders. She had made the initial mistake of trying to speak with them before carrying out the job, second guessing the motives of whoever was paying for the clean-out. After being shot at more times than she cared for, she found there was really no reasoning with the men. She proceeded to take them all out, collecting caps and helping herself to anything lying around that the dead no longer needed.

The gunners were a mixture of humans and non-feral ghouls. To her surprise, killing the ghouls turned out to be relatively easy. They kept their distance when firing guns at her, which made the experience considerably less terrifying in her mind. If they had only known better, they could have thrown down their guns and lunged at her, screaming at the top of their lungs. Fortunately for Abby, they had no way of knowing that acting like their feral brethren would have given them the upper hand. She completed the job with little incident, selling salvage and using the caps she collected to restock her supplies.

Even though she now had what she needed to head back out into the Commonwealth, she found herself hesitating. At first she had blamed her fatigue on the Med-X addiction, but the doctor had put her on Addictol to deal with the withdrawal. She wasn’t in physical pain anymore, but felt very little motivation to do anything other than lie around her room and listen to the radio. She left to get food when needed and now had the caps to pay for the room without relying on Hancock’s charity, but she knew she wasn’t going to find Shaun this way. She told herself that all she needed was a good night’s sleep and she would be good to go, but then morning would come and she would still feel exhausted.

Of course, now that she had experienced a rather vivid nightmare, she found herself wanting to visit Hancock. She had avoided as many people as possible in the past week, not having seen him since that night in the Third Rail. Every time she had considered going to talk to him, she felt disheartened. What was the point? He was a mayor – surely he had more important things to do than talk to her. He certainly didn’t lack company, anyway. The idea of going to visit him in the Old State House, only to find him surrounded by more people like the ones from the club, just made her feel sick to her stomach. She hated that feeling, not liking the implication that accompanied it. She missed their conversations and almost hated herself for feeling that way. The image of him lying in a pool of his own blood refused to leave her head, however. She knew it had only been a dream, but a part of her just wanted the reassurance that he was okay.

She put on a simple pair of slacks and a dingy white shirt, pulling a padded blue jacket over it. While the vault tech suit was perhaps more practical to wear, she was tired of being immediately identified as a vault dweller. She did wonder, though, if it even mattered. Everyone in Goodneighbor seemed to know who she was now. Some of the Neighborhood Watch even had made teasing comments about her ability to hold her liquor, much to her dismay.

She glanced in the mirror for a moment, frowning. Messy red hair and an equally red face. She had managed to keep her rosacea under control during her pre-war days by using various prescription creams. These days, she was lucky if she could find clean water to drink – let alone wash her face in. The rash at least blended in well enough with her freckles, but she still hated how she looked. Not that other women in the Wasteland looked like supermodels, of course, but Abby had always been the biggest critic of her own appearance. She had managed to stop caring about how she looked after leaving the vault – her mind too focused on finding Shaun - but now? She couldn’t help but feel self conscious for some reason. She ran fingers through her hair, at least attempting to detangle it. She licked at her chapped lips, suddenly finding that she missed having easy access to lipstick.

“Fuck, I’m a mess….” she sighed at her reflection. Why did she suddenly care so much? She tried her best to leave that question unanswered as she headed out the door.

She arrived at the Old State House a little while later. She tried her best to ignore the stares and snickers from the Neighborhood Watch guards that stood watch around the place. She finally arrived at Hancock’s office. The two doors leading into the room were wide open and the place was a bit of a mess. Dirty dishes were piled up near a sink, surrounded by empty boxes of Sugar Bombs; Jet and Mentats were scattered throughout the place. Most of the Mentats containers were empty, leaving no guess as to what Hancock’s ride of choice tended to be.

Sitting on a couch in the center of the room was Hancock. He had his feet propped up on the coffee table nearby, smoking a cigarette. Fahrenheit sat across from him, her expression neutral with a cigarette also in hand. Seeing Fahrenheit reminded Abby of yet another reason she hadn’t previously popped in for a visit.

Hancock seemed lost in thought, his head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling while smoke escaped from his lips. Abby considered turning around and leaving quietly. She hated to interrupt the two, especially given how late it was. She turned to leave, her boot accidentally nudging a rusted tin can that was on the floor nearby. Hancock looked over at the noise. When he realized who it was, his face lit up with a smile. He shifted where he was sitting, taking his feet off the table and leaning over it to put out his cigarette.

“Well look who it is!” he greeted her. Abby hadn’t wanted to let on as to how happy she was to see him (alive, no less) but her face betrayed her as a grin crept across it. How could she not smile at his reaction to seeing her? He certainly seemed glad that she was there, although she couldn't quite say the same of Fahrenheit. The bodyguard's expression was best described as the look of disgust one wore when they smelled something foul. Abby’s grin faded a little at Fahrenheit's glare, her eyes drifting down to her feet.

“I…. Um…. Just… was coming to say that I’m leaving town,” she murmured softly.

“That so?” Hancock asked. Abby didn’t look up, not wanting to deal with being stared down by the other woman. As if reading her mind, Hancock spoke up. “Mind giving us a few minutes?” he asked.

Fahrenheit got up, walking out of the room. Abby kept her head down as she passed by. She was sure if looks could kill, she would be dead where she stood at that very moment. After Fahrenheit left the room, she heard movement from where Hancock had been sitting. She looked up to see him walking over to the counter.

“I’d offer to get you a drink, but…. “ he trailed off, sounding amused. Abby made a face.

“I just didn’t expect the beer here to taste like radioactive piss, okay?!” she snipped in defense. Hancock turned around, grinning ear to ear.

“Don’t try and tell me that pre-war beer didn’t taste like piss?” he laughed. “We have enough pre-war ghouls around here who tell me the rads at least give it a kick.” He held up an inhaler. “Jet?” he offered. Abby shook her head.

“I’m still getting over that lovely Med-X addiction and you’re wanting to put me on more chems?” she asked. Hancock shrugged.

“More for me, then,” he decided, settling back down on the couch. He set a few containers of Jet on the coffee table, keeping one for himself. He placed the inhaler in his mouth and took a hit, visibly relaxing. He patted his hand against the cushion next to him, gesturing for her to sit on the couch with him. Instead, she opted to sit down on the couch across from him instead. He didn’t seem bothered by her choice in seating arrangements, simply exhaling the Jet slowly.

“So, when ya headin' out?” he asked.

“First thing tomorrow,” she answered. Hancock hummed.

“Ever thought about having an exquisitely handsome and deadly ghoul at your side?” he wondered. Abby’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re…. asking to come with me?” she inquired.

“Considering it,” he replied. “Things have gotten too damn comfortable around here.”

“….. No.” she decided rather quickly. “You need to stay here.”

Hancock arched his brow, leaning forward and staring straight into her eyes. This made her feel rather uncomfortable, her gaze failing to meet his.

"Didn't even need to think it over, huh?" he asked. Abby fidgeted with her wedding band, as she often did when nervous.

“I don’t… I don’t want you to get hurt,” she explained, feeling close to tears as she remembered the nightmare. “What if we get attacked by ghouls? What if I freak out and accidentally hurt you? Or…. Or worse…?”

Hancock was quiet for a moment, setting the Jet down on the arm of the couch. She began to fret that she had insulted him with her reasoning. Her fear and anxiety felt like a huge lump building up in her chest. She trembled as she tried to find the words to better explain herself. The tension was lifted as he spoke up, his tone amused rather than angry.

“Well, guess I’d better wear something to set myself apart from the ferals, huh?” he mused. “I’m thinking….. Something red? Maybe even a hat!”

Abby looked up in surprise. Not expecting the response she had received, she found herself bursting out into laughter. She leaned back against the couch, running a hand over her face as she attempted to wipe away what few tears had managed to escape. She was still wary of the idea of having someone else with her. After the raider ambush, she had even considered leaving Dogmeat behind and heading out alone. Still, a part deep inside of her felt relief at the idea of taking Hancock along.

"Give me a few days to consider it," she finally decided. It hadn't been the response Hancock had wanted, but she still needed some time to convince herself that it was a good idea. 

"You do what you gotta," he replied, picking the Jet back up.

Abby attempted to relax for the first time in at least a week. She tried pushing her cares aside for the time being, allowing herself a little joy in the moment as she chatted with Hancock. She had truly missed their conversations, even if he did seem to make her do most of the talking with all of his questions. For now, she found that she didn't mind. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all, so long as she kept that one part of her that ached for more than just conversation locked away as deep as she could push it.

"On second, thought," she considered, "Maybe I will try the Jet.... just this once."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thankyou again for your comments/kudos/bookmarks/subscriptions/ect!!! Next chapter: The Silver Shroud! Look for it sometime in the coming week!)


	6. The Good Ol' Days

Abby felt warm and safe. Her entire body was relaxed, not a tense muscle to be found. The scent of her father's cigarettes lingered in the air. She missed the smell when he was away, off fighting whatever battle the army felt was worthwhile. The aroma of that particular brand of cigarettes always reminded her of the holidays, as it was one of the rare times she could usually count on seeing him. It meant time with the family and no school. She loved the peaceful feeling that came with the holiday break. She could just imagine the turkey that her mother was no doubt basting in the kitchen. She reached down, feeling something warm and fuzzy. She knew it had to be Maymay. Maymay was a very patient cat, always happy to occupy any vacant lap. She was quite old and her age could be felt in her worn orange coat, but she was as loving as always. The radio nearby filled the silence with an episode of the Silver Shroud. Abby loved the stories, even if they could be rather cheesy at times.

She kept her eyes closed, just simply enjoying the moment, letting herself drift along as she listened to the broadcast. When had she last felt this good? Perhaps during the trip to the beach she took with Nate that one summer....

Nate.... the man she loved. The man she had married. But... how could she be married? She was only twelve! Things weren't right, her memory felt disjointed and scattered. As she opened her eyes, the dream melted away. Everything still felt hazy, but the floral arrangements her mother used for decorations were nowhere to be seen. She wasn't next to a fireplace or waiting on Christmas dinner. She was in a room that was piled up with dirty dishes and empty chem canisters. The cigarette smoke had been real - the air was still thick with the smell. She looked down, noting that the soft feeling in her lap had been a blanket, not a cat. She was curled up on one of the couches, a tattered blanket draped across her. The radio nearby was indeed playing a Silver Shroud episode - something that caught her by surprise. She wouldn't have guessed any of the old shows would have survived for this long.

She let her head fall back on the couch, placing the crook of her arm over her eyes as she let out a groan. Had she really taken Jet the night before? More importantly, had she really spent the entire night here with Hancock? She was at least grateful that he had been nowhere in sight as she woke up. The shock of seeing a skinless face right now after coming out of her delusional state would have probably caused all her muscles to tense back up. While she was disappointed that she wasn't back at home with her parents, she at least still felt relaxed and calm for the moment.

Taking Jet had been a strange experience. The world around her had moved in slow motion. It had been a wonderful sensation - one that allowed her to calm down and think for a moment on her feelings and thoughts toward the man sitting across from her. She still hadn't said anything or made any decisions regarding him yet, but the experience had managed to kill the ball of anxiety that had been wadded up in her chest and stomach. Now that she was awake and somewhat sober, the feeling of dread and worry was starting to come back to her. Still, at least her back didn't hurt for once - she supposed that was at least an upside of everything that had occurred the previous night. She now understood what the appeal was in taking Jet, though she still was still nervous about possible side effects - particularly addiction. Her father had always made it clear that he would kill her with his own two hands if he ever caught her taking drugs. While she was a grown woman now and her father was over two hundred years in the grave, she still had the lingering fretfulness that she was going to somehow get in trouble for taking it. If nothing else, Preston would have certainly disapproved and lectured her on the dangers of chem usage. Good thing he was back in Sanctuary.

After several minutes, Abby began to wonder why nobody had spoken to her yet. She uncovered her eyes and glanced around, only to find that she was alone in the room. She sighed, getting up and stretching. At least her clothes were still on - that was a good sign, right? Well, her boots were missing, but nothing came to mind that caused any serious concern as to why she wasn't wearing them. She located them easily enough, someone having placed them in a nearby chair. The chair was tucked halfway under a table. On top of the table sat a bowl of Sugar Bombs with an unopened bottle of purified water sitting next to it. Everything looked as though it had been set out with her in mind. She hated to presume, but figured that at the worst, she could repay in caps whatever she took. She set the boots on the floor and slipped them on before settling down in the chair and taking advantage of the breakfast.

The cereal was about as unhealthy as she had remembered. Given how old it was and how much radiation it had been exposed to, she was surprised it wasn't stale. She couldn't deny that it was pretty disgusting in flavor, but it was still worlds better than eating radroach or drinking Whitechapel Charlie's beer. Her mind began to focus a little more on the radio as she ate. It was a piece of nostalgia that she was content to hear again. She wondered when she had ever stopped listening to the broadcasts. Perhaps after she had become a teen and had her mind on other things? In retrospect, those things seemed less important now. Holding on to the little pieces that reminded her of better times took priority these days.

"Calling all Silver Shroud fans!" a voice suddenly announced on the radio, as the episode came to a close, "I got an urgent mission! If you're a true fan, stop by the Memory Den and talk to Kent Connolly. The Silver Shroud needs you!"

Abby hummed, finishing the last of the Sugar Bombs. She did tell Hancock she would stay a few more days to consider whether or not to let him tag along with her. What else did she have to kill time with? She fished around in her pockets, pulling out some caps and laying them on the table, just in case. The last thing she needed was to have Fahrenheit show up at her door later over stealing unappetizing, irradiated chunks of sucrose.

\----

From the outside, the Memory Den appeared to be the type of place that Abby's father had warned her to steer clear from. It didn't take much guessing to figure out what the building had been utilized for during its pre-war days. Old posters advertising "GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS!" were plastered around the entrance. Inside, the place seemed to have been heavily re-purposed. There were capsules everywhere, similar in design to the ones the residents in Vault 111 had been placed in. The ones in the Memory Den differed slightly in that they allowed for an individual to recline comfortably inside, a television screen fitted to the top. There were a few people already inside some of the capsules. While she couldn't quite see enough from the angle where she stood, Abby could catch glimpses of something playing out on the screens other than the normal "Please Stand By" message that the other televisions displayed.

A woman greeted her as she walked in. She was slightly taller than Abby and wore an old baroque-style dress that was adorned with feathers around the collar. It was perhaps the fanciest thing she had seen since her pre-war days. The woman's blonde hair was fixed up in a fancy manner, making Abby feel grossly under-dressed.

"I think you stepped into the wrong place, sweetheart," the woman told her. "You don't look like you need the Memory Den."

Abby fidgeted with her ring, indeed feeling out of place.

"I... was just looking for a Kent Connolly....?" she asked. The woman arched an eyebrow, looking rather suspicious of the vault dweller's intentions.

"What business do you have with Kent?" the woman asked.

"I... well..." Abby blushed, feeling rather childish to admit that she had been listening to old Silver Shroud episodes, "there was this radio broadcast? And I... thought maybe he might have a job for me...."

The woman sighed, shaking her head and pointing to a door nearby. "He's in the back, sugar."

Abby nodded, quickly making her way to the door. She knocked quietly, feeling nervous that she may be bothering someone important. This place had an expensive feel to it, and she barely had enough caps to spare. The door opened, causing her to jump back in fear as a ghoulish face stood on the other side. The ghoul said nothing, simply standing there while Abby pulled herself together.

"I'm... so sorry....!" she apologized, trying to calm down. The man shrugged.

"You'd think I'd be used to it by now," he replied, not seeming too insulted. "Did you need something?”

“ Y-yeah… are you Kent Connally?” she inquired.”There was a radio broadcast and….”

The ghoul smiled, opening the door all the way and motioning for Abby to come inside. The room was rather simple in its setup. There was a desk, a couch, a couple of chairs, and a small transmitter. Silver Shroud posters adorned the walls, a life-sized cardboard cutout of the superhero standing on display nearby.

“Uh… wow…. “ she blurted out. “I guess I am in the right place…. “

“You like it?” Kent asked happily. “I wish I had more, but could only find so much.”

“N-no, it’s impressive,” she replied with a grin. “Brings back old memories.”

"Like Thanksgiving 2071?" Kent reminisced. "Ma made a twelve pound turkey, then we all sat and listened to the Silver Shroud vs. Captain Cosmos... even Pa was there!"

"Well, I was thinking more Christmas 2065," she replied. "I don't think I even came home for Thanksgiving in 2071... that was a really weird year for me."

Kent stared at the woman, looking confused.

"Well, you have to be the most well preserved ghoul I've ever seen..."

"Uh..." Abby ducked her head awkwardly, "I was... kinda cryogenically frozen for two hundred years. Just woke up, actually...."

The ghoul was silent for a moment as he processed the information before laughing. "Oh man, that's amazing! You're just like Mister Abominable from Episode 83!"

"The one that was frozen in an iceberg?" she asked.

"The very one!" Kent replied enthusiastically, taking a seat next to his radio transmitter. "It took the Shroud and Manta Man combined to take him down! Boy, if you just woke up, the world these days must take some getting used to, huh? Must be great to have someone else to talk to about the good 'ol days!"

"Yeah, I'm starting to find that I have more in common with ghouls than anybody else around here," she noted with a small smile, taking a seat on the nearby couch. "I can't imagine what it must have been like... living through the past two hundred years. I'm not sure whether or not I lucked out not having to go through that."

Kent shrugged. "We dealt with it. Mainly I focused on survival. It got real bad after the bombs fell. For a long while.... I tried not to think of the good old days. Just too painful. But it's all we got now. The world's crazy - Goodneighbor especially. Thefts, m-murders, worse.... sometimes you just got to escape a little to make it through the day."

"Seems like you're doing a rather good job at that," she mused, looking at the posters.

"Well, it's one thing to relive the good ol days, but I have something else in mind to make the place better," Kent explained. "What we really need is the Silver Shroud himself! No matter how bleak things got, he'd save the day!"

"..... you do realize he's a fictional character, right?" Abby asked. Kent laughed.

"I haven't lost my mind quite yet," he replied. "But that's where you come in! See, what if the Silver Shroud was real? With his black trench coat and gleaming silver submachine gun? I got a plan to bring him to life, so he can fight bad guys and give the rest of us a symbol of something better!"

"Uh....." she trailed off. She didn't like the sound of where this was going.

"I've built my own custom machine gun! Even better than the one in the show!" Kent continued on. He had a gleam in his eye that was best compared to a small child walking into a candy store. While Abby had a hard time looking at him for very long, she saw the expression and couldn't help but find his enthusiasm adorable in an odd way. "But to make this work, I still need the most important piece: The genuine Silver Shroud costume herself!"

"I've never been much of a seamstress," she pointed out. Kent shook his head.

"No, believe it or not, they actually got one here! In Boston!" he informed her. "They made it for the TV show! Before the bombs fell, they were filming the pilot over at Hubris Comics."

"Let me get this straight," Abby asked, sounding slightly irritated, "You want me to fight my way past super mutants, raiders, feral ghouls, and whatever the hell else is out there, for.... a costume? Which may or may not even still be there after two hundred years?"

"I know, I know," he said, trying to calm her down, "But with just the gun, I'm nothing but another armed hooligan! Having the Silver Shroud come to life, though? That would give everyone hope!"

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She couldn't help but picture Kent looking like a kicked puppy if she were to decline to help him. How could someone who looked this terrifying to her also appear so adorable at the same time? Something about him set off her maternal instincts - a fact she hated, simply because it meant saying 'no' would be difficult.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll go get it for you."

"You're the best!" Kent replied. Abby grimaced. She was truly going to risk her neck just to make some nostalgic ghoul happy. She wondered if this was a side effect of the previous night's Jet. If that was the case, she was swearing off the stuff for good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I won't lie - this is my favorite quest chain out of the entire game. I only wish they gave you the option to continue to speak as The Silver Shroud in other quests if you're wearing the costume. Thankyou again for all the comments/kudos/bookmarks/subscriptions/positive vibes! Seeing that people actually seem to be enjoying it really motivates me more than you realize <3 ))


	7. Becoming a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com)]

It felt strange to be alone. Abby had left Dogmeat behind with Daisy, not wanting to risk hurting him again. It was a mixed blessing – she now felt as though she could take more risks, worrying less about someone else's safety. It was also much easier for her to maneuver around Boston without being noticed. Dogmeat was a smart canine, but he still had an unpredictable wildness about him that sometimes beckoned for trouble. A single distracted bark could easily give away their location. An easily excitable reaction to the presence of food could cause him to possibly stumble through a trap. At the same time, not having anyone to share thoughts, fears, or experiences with was disheartening. Maybe dogs couldn’t speak back, but just having another entity there to hear her voice was a comfort she missed already.

She arrived at the comic store with relatively little issue. Most of the combat she came across were conflicts between super mutants and raiders. This allowed her to easily slip by undetected. The store itself had certainly seen better days, but at least it was still standing. The sun was setting, causing the inside to seemingly disappear into a dark void. She was wary about using the flashlight on her Pip Boy, lest it give her position away to something hostile, but she was blind without it. She stepped around a corner after passing through the entrance, shining the light about.

The first thing her light revealed was a creature with large eyes and a wide grin staring back at her from atop one of the counters. Abby let out a sharp gasp, almost tripping backwards. A second look told her it was a doll – one of the disturbing toy monkeys that would bang symbols together when powered up. She always hated those damn things. She quietly crept past it, scanning the shelves for any evidence of the Silver Shroud outfit. Suddenly, the monkey’s eyes lit up as it began to smash the cymbals together. Abby jumped, once again startled by the stupid toy. She hissed through her teeth before raising her rifle and blowing the doll’s head off. She really, REALLY hated those damn things. A snarling sound could be heard from behind the counter. She quickly ducked behind it, killing the flashlight and trying her best to remain quiet. This was easier said than done given how fast her heart was racing. She tried to take controlled, quiet breaths, but it proved to be difficult. She really hoped whatever was on the other side of the counter was just a dog. She would give anything for it to be just a dog. Dogs had the possibility of being friendly. Those that weren’t…. well, she hated running into them, but feral dogs were still far better than feral-

“Blaaaaaarg!!” a voice screamed just inches from where Abby was crouched. She screamed back, turning on her flashlight to find herself face to face with a feral ghoul. The sight prompted her to scream even more. She pushed her rifle forward, hitting the creature square in the face. She scrambled to get up, only to find herself surrounded by more ghouls that had just been made aware of her presence.

“Shit shit shit… wake up wake up wake up….!” she told herself. The ghoul she had hit reached out, grabbing her leg. Its nails sunk in painfully, telling her that this was no dream. This time it was the real deal. She pulled away from its grasp, darting for the entrance. Unfortunately, she discovered it was blocked off by more ghouls. Her chest tightened as she gasped for air, terror setting in. Normally Dogmeat’s barks snapped her out of such a state, but this time she was alone. One of the ghouls pushed her down, causing her to land hard on her side. Something in her pocket got painfully sandwiched between her thigh and the hard floor. She hissed as she removed the item, finding it to be a container of Jet. She didn't even take time to consider the consequences of her actions. She quickly placed the canister in her mouth and inhaled, hoping it wasn’t empty. The sickening sweet taste of the Jet seemed to stick in the back of her throat, but the world around her slowed considerably. She looked around, trying to get a handle on her breathing.

The ghouls' approach seemed to slow to a crawl. Now that she could get a proper look at them, they did appear quite a bit different than their non-feral counterparts. Sure, the skin looked the same, but something about their faces…. there was a glazed over look in their eyes. Drool dripped from their mouths as they seemed to have no control over their senses anymore. All they felt and knew was hunger. None of these monsters could possibly be like the ghouls in Goodneighbor, and it was quite clear that none of them were Hancock, putting her fear of repeating her nightmare at ease.

She picked them off, one by one, rifle shots to their heads. She had watched one too many zombie movies. She knew from prior experience that ordinary injuries would kill them the same as any living person, but she didn't want to take chances. Whatever worked to reassure her mind. By the time the Jet wore off, a pile of corpses littered the room. Her head felt dizzy and her mouth was dry, but she was still alive and standing. She quickly made her way through the store, hoping she didn’t have to use more of the chem than she currently had left in the inhaler.

\----------

"OW!" Abby hissed as Daisy applied medicine to her leg wound.

"I told you it would sting," Daisy lectured, securing a bandage in place. Abby was back in Goodneighbor, having located the Silver Shroud outfit and a few other memorabilia for Kent. She was now being treated for her injuries at Daisy's store. Dogmeat was curled up on a rug nearby, sleeping rather soundly. Part of Abby was glad she had left him behind, but she also knew that being alone had caused her to be more careless with the Jet than she really had intended. She wondered if the jittery and paranoid feeling she had was a side-effect of taking the stuff. She really didn't know much about what side-effects to expect, so she was developing the tendency to blame every negative sensation that occurred on the Jet, whether or not it was the true cause. She sighed, flexing her leg a little to make sure the bandage felt secure.

"You're sure I won't turn into a ghoul from it?" she wondered. Daisy laughed.

"We're not zombies, dear," she reminded her. "If it was spread through saliva or blood, you'd see a lot more ghouls in Goodneighbor."

".... that's comforting," Abby replied, really not wanting to think on what Daisy was saying. Unfortunately for her, the ghoul wasn't finished rambling.

"I mean, I have heard of some smoothskins getting certain infections when taking ghoul lovers..." she continued, speaking in a casual tone as though she were simply commenting on the weather.

".... Why do you feel the need to tell me that?!" Abby asked, twitching. She stood up, making sure the bandage wouldn't pull too much from stretching.

"Consider it a public service announcement," a familiar voice interrupted. Abby looked over at the store entrance to see Hancock leaning against the doorframe. "But it's nothing a little Rad-X and Rad Away won't-"

"Do NOT finish that sentence, for the love of God, Hancock," Abby begged. Hancock simply grinned.

"You should see the look on your face," he teased. "Almost as red as my coat."

Abby didn't respond, simply hugging the Silver Shroud outfit to her chest and partially burying her face against the material.

"I have to go," she mumbled, walking past.

"Where to?" Hancock asked.

"To see Kent Connolly," she called back over her shoulder.

"In that case, don't forget the tip about the Rad-X!" Hancock responded.

Abby grimaced, quickening her pace. She bolted past Fahrenheit, not even taking the time to look at the bodyguard. She really didn't want to deal with her glares at the moment. It wasn't that Abby had anything against the idea of ghouls being intimate, but when Daisy brought the subject up, it felt like discussing sex with her grandmother. The woman was old enough to be her own mother, anyway, even after two hundred years were deducted from the equation. Hancock, on the other hand.... well, something about his teasing just made her insides feel strange. That coy little smirk of his was not helping the matter, nor the fact that she was well aware of how horrible she must have looked at the moment. She was desperately fighting a losing battle at this point in keeping her thoughts and feelings buried deep inside. Apart from those emotions, however, the implication that she and Kent had anything going on added a different level of disgust with her. Being around Kent brought out her maternal instincts. If anything, her feelings toward him were more similar to how a big sister felt for a little brother. Even just joking about something beyond that made her vastly uncomfortable. She didn't feel as though she owed anyone an explanation, however, so she simply kept walking towards the Memory Den.

Kent looked pleased to see her as she entered his room.

"Is that it?!" he asked excitedly. Abby cracked a smile.

"Yup! And some other goodies!" she told him, placing the items in his lap.

"This is amazing! She's as pretty as the posters!" he proclaimed, examining the costume. "And memorabilia, too? You're something else!"

Abigal sat down on the nearby couch, trying not to laugh at Kent's reaction. He was beaming with joy so much, she couldn't help but feel as though the entire hassle had been worthwhile.

"Together with my gun, everything's all set!" he announced.

"Um.... right..." she replied, having forgotten exactly why he wanted the costume in the first place. "You're... not seriously thinking of dressing up like the Shroud and going out to fight crime, are you?" she worried. Kent shook his head.

"No, of course not. I'm just not Silver Shroud material," he explained. "I could be Rhett Reinhardt, or-or his butler, Jarvey Blake. But the Shroud is strong, capable."

"Well.... don't sell yourself short?" she replied, not wanting to discourage him. Deep down she worried about him getting hurt if he were to masquerade around like a superhero, but it was hard for her to simply kill his spirit like that. Kent shook his head, smiling.

"I got a better idea as to who should wear it. You up for being the Silver Shroud?" he asked.

"...... what?" Abby asked, her smile fading.

"C'mon! You already got your own origin story and everything!" Kent encouraged her. "What with the cryovault and all!"

"Uh...." she bumbled, not entirely certain what to think, "I'm... not exactly strong or capable, either... plus, The Silver Shroud? I mean, wouldn't it make more sense if I were the Mistress of Mystery...?"

"You're right..." Kent thought, "But you didn't find her costume there, did you?"

"Not that I noticed, no..." she replied.

"Well... it still doesn't matter! The Silver Shroud embodies justice! And in the old days, comics used to reboot characters all the time - who says a gal couldn't have picked up the shroud?" Kent argued. "Plus, you _are_ strong and capable! You helped me out when everyone else just laughed at me. And you're from the olden days, like me. You know how much things have fallen - how much we got to fight for. To make the place b-better!"

Abby sighed. Surely she wasn't in any condition to think straight. How much Jet had she consumed earlier that day? And Kent's puppy-dog eyes and demeanor really didn't help the situation. Maybe she could simply humor him - wear the costume for a little bit. It wasn't as though she was going to be in town much longer, anyway.

"... Okay, maybe.... but I'm leaving town in a few days, so... uh... don't count on much....?" she asked. Kent stood up, grinning ear to ear as he held out the costume.

"That's plenty of time to clean up some troublemakers and let everyone know the Silver Shroud has returned! I even made up some nifty calling cards for you to leave behind when dispatching justice. And then you can take the fight to the rest of the Commonwealth!" he decided. Abby reluctantly took the costume. She couldn't help but feel as though she were making a huge mistake. "Now try it on!" Kent insisted.

"Uh.... okay....." she mumbled. She stared at Kent for a moment as he stayed standing there with his face lit up like an overly-enthusiastic child. ".... turn around....?" she asked. Kent blinked in confusion before smiling awkwardly.

"Right-right...!" he replied, having gotten too caught up in the moment. He turned around, waiting for Abby to put on the costume.

"Okay, I think it's on right," she said a moment later. Kent turned around, his face lighting up again.

"You look just like him! Er... her...!" he replied. "This is going to be great!"

"Yeah.... super..." Abby replied with a forced smile.

The two sat down for a bit to go over the details of Kent's plan. He was to send messages over the radio station when the Silver Shroud was needed. Abby was very unsure about the entire thing, but nodded along. She felt exhausted by the time she left the Memory Den. The entire day had been stressful in several ways and she just wanted to faceplant on her hotel bed. On the way back, the Neighborhood Watch cracked jokes about her attire.

"Oooh, the Silver Shroooud! I'm soooo scared!" one of them laughed.

"Hey, isn't that a kid's show?" another asked.

She did her best to ignore them, wondering whether it was an improvement over cracks about her ability to hold her liquor. When she arrived back in the hotel room, she paused in front of the mirror. She hadn't gotten a look at herself in the costume yet. She grinned, ducking her head bashfully at the image in the mirror. In spite of the teasing she had received on the streets, she looked pretty badass. She pulled up the scarf of the outfit over her mouth, making her look even more mysterious. She let out a muffled giggle, turning around in the mirror. If she tucked her hair in a little more, maybe nobody would be able to recognize her. She felt like a true superhero dressed in such a manner.

"Okay...." she finally decided with a more positive outlook. "Abby, looks like you get to be the Silver Shroud!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season! Thankyou so much for your love and support! <3 ))  
> 


	8. The Silver Shroud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Happy New Year, everyone! Ty for all the love and support <3 I hope 2016 treats all of you kindly!)

Abby kept her face concealed behind the scarf as she deepened her voice to threaten the men in front of her.

"Peddling poison to kids, are we? Today you face the Silver Shroud!"

So far, she was getting quite into character. She had already taken out one thug named Wayne Delancy, who had murdered a woman and her son for a few measly caps. Now Kent had sent her after a chem dealer known simply as 'AJ', who had been peddling his wares to children. It hadn't even been that he merely allowed younger patrons to buy from him - AJ had been disguising the stuff as candy. Cherry flavored Jet and bubble gum Mentats were just an example of what he had been using to draw in younger customers.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, did Kent put you up to this?" AJ asked, rolling his eyes. "He keeps moaning about the _poor little kids_!" he mocked. "What the hell, right? Tell you what - I'll pay you fifty caps just to shut up about it. And maybe get Kent off my back, all right?"

While it couldn't be seen from behind the scarf, Abby was grinning in amusement at the pathetic attempt at bribery. If she were doing this merely for the caps, she would have far more efficient ways of going about it. Besides, nothing was stopping her from just collecting the caps off of this asshole's corpse after putting a bullet through his head. Of course, she didn't want to kill if it wasn't necessary. She decided to give him one last warning.

"Stop selling to children, miscreant!" she emphasized again, "Or face my wrath!"

AJ looked over at the two thugs who were accompanying him, giving them a nod.

"Waste the freak," he ordered them. Before the men had much of a chance to react, a spray of bullets were fired from the silver machine gun. Abby hated the recoil on it, but was starting to get the hang of handling it. She had to admit that it certainly was effective at taking people out. She stepped over the corpse of one of the thugs, taking a calling card out of her pocket and placing it on AJ's body. She strolled out of the alley, the Neighborhood Watch not even batting an eye over the commotion she had caused. While she was glad she didn't have to worry about getting arrested, she couldn't help but question the fact that this seemed to be the sort of place where nobody was alarmed by the sound of gunfire.

She made her way back to the small shopping area set up near the entrance to Goodneighbor, tuning her Pip boy to Kent's radio station along the way. It was in the middle of another Silver Shroud episode, so she let it continue playing while she shopped. Daisy was engaged with a customer at the moment, attempting to sell them wares from the "Is it Food or Not?" section of her store. She needed bullets anyway, so she approached the counter of the weapon shop next door, "Kill or Be Killed". KL-E-O, the female assaultron who operated the place, greeted her. Abby found the robot to be fascinating, but she couldn't help but always get the feeling that KL-E-O was flirting with her. Daisy said this was normal and to not let it bother her. Abigil was more worried about the comments KL-E-O would say as she decided on merchandise.

"Each weapon tested on someone who deserved it," or, "Don't worry, I only test the weapons on customers I don't like." She seemed friendly enough, but her words weren't exactly re-assuring. Still, KL-E-O seemed to like Daisy and Hancock, so Abby tried to calm her nerves by reminding herself that being on their good side meant she was probably in the good graces of the assaultron.... for now, at least.

After re-stocking on ammo, a familiar voice spoke up over the radio broadcast.

"The Silver Shroud is bringin' justice to Goodneighbor!" Kent enthusiastically announced. "Bad guys better look out! And now a special update: The villainous assassin, Kendra, was recently spotted at the Third Rail. The same Kendra who bombed Little Joe's shack and killed four innocent drifters. If you wanna see the Silver Shroud in action, stay near Whitechapel Charlie. The Shroud is sure to interrogate him to find the evildoer's whereabouts!"

Abby sighed, turning off the radio. She had been looking forward to another job, but Whitechapel Charlie? Was Kent trying to play a joke on her? She looked over at the entrance to the Third Rail, her stomach turning somersaults. She didn't like going there after the beer incident, and Kent broadcasting to all of Goodneighbor to show up wasn't exactly giving her more confidence. She tugged at the scarf, making sure it was in place. Maybe nobody would recognize her. The messy spirals of red hair that spilled out of her hat didn't help conceal her identity, even though she had tied it back as best as she could. She decided that next time she came across a barber, she would opt for a crew cut. She took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly, heading through the doors of the club.

\---

The Third Rail, while packed, didn't seem any more crowded than usual. Everyone seemed to be busy with their own lives to notice Abby as she walked up to the bar. She was still nervous and couldn't shake the idea in her head that people were staring at her. She tried to focus on Magnolia's singing to distract her paranoia as she approached Whitechapel Charlie. She silently reminded herself that she was no longer Abby, but the Silver Shroud. She had no time to let nervousness get the best of her.

Whitechapel Charlie looked over at her, the shutters on his metallic eyestalks shifting into focus.

"You look like one of them wankers from the posters. Whatcha wearing that for?" he asked.

"Uh.... posters....?" she wondered.

"Yeah, those old timey posters from back in the day," he explained. "My mate, Kent, puts them up every damned place."

"Oh! Um...." she stammered for a moment before regaining her bearings. "You look upon THE SILVER SHROUD!" she proclaimed in a deep, overly-dramatic voice. She was glad that the music was loud enough to keep her voice from carrying too far.

"The Shroud, then? More like a nutter," he replied, gears clicking and whirling as he got a better look at her. "Tell me - this new persona of yours actually able to drink beer?"

"... I seek a miscreant named Kendra," she continued, ignoring Charlie's jab at her. She didn't know quite what she expected. Even if it wasn't already overtly obvious who she truly was, Charlie's sensors picked up on quite a bit.

"Really." Charlie replied, not sounding impressed as he wiped down the bar in front of him with a rag. "Take my advice - Kendra is not one to be trifled with. People associated with her have a habit of being found face down in a ditch." Abby pulled down the scarf so she could speak to him in a quieter voice.

"C'mon, Charlie, help me out here..." she hissed. She swore that if Mr. Handy's had facial expressions, Charlie's would have been one of amusement.

"Well, if you have a death wish, I can arrange a meeting for a fee," he informed her. She sighed, reaching into her pockets and feeling what little caps were left. She was inclined to beg him to give her free information, but then decided against it. No, the Silver Shroud would not resort to pleading. She pulled up her scarf, narrowing her eyes at the robot.

"It is not wise to stand between the Silver Shroud and righteous justice!" she announced loudly. Charlie let out a chuckle, gears whirling in amusement.

"Justice? You mean to end her?" he asked. "Well, in that case, her flat is just south of Goodneighbor. Water Street Apartments." Abby's eyes widened, surprised that it had been that easy.

"So.... just like that and you're telling me where she is?" she asked.

"Look, my sensors tell me you know what you're about. Killing off Kendra? Is in my boss' best interest. Just watch out for the blighters she's got with her. Nasty piece of business, that."

Abby felt rather confused. Whitechapel Charlie had given her quite a hard time the couple of instances that she had showed her face in the Third Rail. He seemed confident, however, that she could take out Kendra. She only wished she had the same confidence in her own abilities.

"You really think I can do this...?" she asked, voice taking a more serious tone.

"Why not? You did the last job I gave you rather effectively," he replied. "Just be careful out there - she's a trained assassin. Nothing like the goons you offed earlier."

Abby smiled behind the scarf. While the idea of taking out someone who had more combat experience than herself did scare her quite a bit, she couldn't help but feel a confident boost at the robot's faith in her. It also gave her a warm fuzzy feeling that he seemed to at least show a little bit of concern for her well-being.

"Then away I go, to carry out justice!" she told him, upping the dramatics again.

"Right... good luck with that," he told her, turning around to grab a glass.

Abby began to walk away from the bar before hearing a small chuckle from her right. She looked over to see Hancock at a nearby table, a bemused grin on his face. Had he been close enough to hear the exchange between her and Charlie?

"Something funny, Mayor?" she asked, keeping her Silver Shroud voice. Hancock set his drink down in front of him.

"Yeah. Someone told me that some costumed freak was operating in Goodneighbor - and the kicker is, it ain't me."

"Do you have a problem with it?" she asked. Hancock shrugged.

"I don't know... should I?" he wondered. Abby thought for a moment before replying.

"This neighborhood is ill and I am the cure!" she proclaimed. Hancock began to laugh again.

"You're priceless!" he snorted. "Like the Silver Shroud... herself, I guess?" he wondered, not dwelling too much on the concept, "walked right out of a comic book. Priceless!"

Abby felt her face getting warm under the scarf. She wasn't quite sure if Hancock was praising her or making fun of her.

"You've been busy scaring people." he continued. "Bashing in a few faces. I respect that, so far. But I gotta ask, one freak to another, why the get up?"

"Many have sought to pierce the Shroud, to no avail!" she replied, almost finding the exchange to be entertaining. Hancock shook his head in amusement, picking up his drink and finishing it off before moving to stand up.

"You just don't stop. Stay you, pal." he grinned. He stood there for a moment, as though he expected Abby to say something.

"Uh.... something you needed, Mayor?" she asked, trying to keep in-character. Hancock nodded.

"Yeah, so where we headed?" he wondered. Abby couldn't quite keep the act up with him surprising her in such a way.

"..... what?" she asked, pulling down her scarf and giving Hancock a confused look.

"Well, c'mon, I'm not going to let you steal all the fun," he noted. "Plus, going after Kendra? You're really gonna want someone at your back - preferably someone with opposable thumbs."

Abby made a face. She really didn't want to cause a scene in such a public area.

"You're not going to let me just easily walk out of here alone, are you?" she asked. Hancock maintained his grin.

"That's the idea," he retorted. She sighed, pulling up her scarf. At least this was just to an apartment and back. It wasn't like she was bringing him to Diamond City or Sanctuary.

"Then come! Accompany me and we will dispatch justice!" she announced. Hancock laughed.

"Oh, this is gonna be good..."

\---

Another body fell to the floor as Hancock fired off his shotgun.

"Well, they tried... if you can call that tryin'!" he shouted in amusement to Abby. She was almost worried about how much fun he seemed to have shooting up Kendra's goons. While she had previously suspected he at least had some combat experience based on how well he had handled a knife, she hadn't been fully aware at just how good of a shot he was. She would have guessed that all the chems would have made him too shaky to shoot straight. Not only was she wrong, but she was extremely grateful that he was there and on her side.

Shooting up the place had been easier with Hancock than she had initially pictured. He had been right about his choice of attire making it difficult to mistake him for some random ghoul. The red coat was starting to become something she felt relieved - even happy - to see. Her mind had no issues staying her trigger-finger upon seeing the flash of crimson. Maybe her fears truly had been unwarranted. Of course, these ghouls were shooting at a distance. She would have to wait and see if her senses were still this sharp when faced with a pack of ferals.

The room fell silent as the last of Kendra's men bit the dust. Hancock took out a bottle of Buffout, offering it to Abby. She shook her head, declining. The ghoul shrugged, popping a couple of the pills into his mouth and swallowing.

"Gotta say, you handle yourself pretty well, sister," he told her. Abby was glad the scarf concealed enough of her face to hide her blush.

"Um.... thanks...." she murmured. Keeping up the Silver Shroud persona was proving to be more difficult with Hancock around. Something about him made her feel scatterbrained when he talked to her. Either he hadn't noticed or didn't care, not acknowledging how quiet and awkward she appeared at the moment. The two walked through a door that led to a hallway. Abby took a few steps before feeling herself being jerked back.

"Ow, hey!" she hissed at Hancock, who had grabbed her arm.

"Watch your step, Sunshine," he warned her. She looked down, noticing an armed mine that had been set out on the floor. She grimaced, not even wanting to imagine how painful stepping on it would have been. She hated to admit it, but having Hancock at her back was turning out to be rather useful. While internally grateful, she felt almost irritated at the idea of having to confess how helpful it was to have him there. She simply remained quiet, stooping down and disarming the mine.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Hancock wondered.

"A friend back in Sanctuary showed me how," she answered, carefully picking up the device.

"Well that's useful to know," he mused.

After making their way up a flight of stairs, they finally arrived at Kendra's apartment. Abby cautiously opened the door, gun at the ready. A woman wearing heavy armor stood on the other side of the room, her gun already pointed at the door. She didn't fire right away, instead looking amused at the people who had just broken into her flat. It was a safe assumption that the woman was Kendra.

"So you're the crazy one in the costume," she smirked. "Wayne Delancy's killer. You have no idea who you're dealing with. I do so like it when the little bug crawls willingly into the spider's webs..."

"You have taken your last life, villain!" Abby spoke in her Silver Shroud voice, keeping herself partially concealed around the doorframe. Kendra simply laughed.

"You stole my line!" she grinned. Abby quickly moved back as Kendra shot a round in her direction. Wood went flying from the doorframe, splintering next to where she stood. She looked over, seeing Hancock across from her on the opposite side of the door frame, also taking cover as he determined the best course of action. Noting where he was currently located, Abby quickly took out the mine she had acquired earlier. She activated it, tossing it as far into the room as she could. She then quickly darted away from the door, hoping Hancock did the same.

The explosion was much louder than she had expected, causing her ears to ring. The sound of more devices exploding made things even worse. How many mines did that woman have on her?! Abby kept her head down, shielding herself from flying debris. When everything quieted down, she peered around the corner to make certain Kendra wasn't getting back up. There wasn't much left of the far side of Kendra's room. Even better - there wasn't much left of Kendra.

"Well how the hell am I going to leave a calling card on that?" Abby asked out loud. Hancock got up from where he had taken cover, walking around the apartment and surveying the damage.

"Well... I think there's a piece of brain matter over here that you could always stick it in," he noted.

Abby made a face, but walked over to the scattered remains and did just that. She tried not to gag at the sight. Normally her kills were much cleaner than this. Maybe explosives weren't her cup of tea...

"You know," Hancock spoke up, leaning against the doorframe, "playing dress up is fun and all, but you've walked into something a whole lot bigger."

".... and you're just now telling me this?" she asked, wiping bits of Kendra off of her gloves as she made her way back over to the door.

"Hey, what can I say?" Hancock shrugged. "Going after her was doing Goodneighbor a huge favor. But these low-lives you've been taking out for Kenny-boy? They all belong to the same asshole. And that asshole's going to want some good old fashion revenge, you dig?"

"Great...." she sighed, "Well.... thanks for the warning I guess...?" Hancock smiled, adjusting his hat.

"Well, it would be a shame if he ended you," he told her. She wasn't certain if his words were necessarily a compliment, but they did make her heart jump a little more than it probably should have. Hancock continued, "His name's Sinjin. He's taken two bit raider outfits and made them... scary."

"Because they were fluffy and cute before?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Compared to now? Not too far off," he replied. "Raiders are ruthless, but Sinjin? He's a whole different class. Leveled some farms, napalmed his own men to end a couple of enemies... if he ain't dealt with now, in a couple of years it may take an army to end him."

"Super," she sighed. "So let me guess... you want us to go after this guy?"

"Well, that's the problem," he explained, taking a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket. "No one knows where he is. He's a behind-the-scenes kind of guy. But you keep poking his people with a machine gun and he'll come out of hiding."

"Know any others I should be poking, then?" she wondered. Hancock lit the cigarette, taking a puff before replying.

"Yeah, Smiling Kate operates outside of Bunker Hill. And Northy's got a pad over at Prospect Hill. You take 'em out and maybe we can find out where the big guy himself is stashed."

"I don't know..." Abby considered. "I got damn lucky with Kendra. You really think we can take on someone like Sinjin?"

"Stop selling yourself short, sister," he told her, giving her a warm smile. "Not everyone handles pressure that well when someone's shooting at them. You got this far, even without any help. And now that I've got your back? You got nothing to worry about."

"Then I guess it's worth a try," she decided, trying not to sound too giddy over being complimented.

"Damn right it is! Goodneighbor'd rest a whole lot easier with Sinjin out of the picture. You help me take care of him and I'm inclined to show some gratitude, you feel me?"

Abby pulled down the scarf, making a face.

"Gratitude or not, if this guy is as bad as you say he is, I'm going to do what I can," she stated in a serious tone, trying to make her intentions clear. Hancock grinned.

"You know, you're all right, Sunshine" he mused. "C'mon - let's go pay Smiling Kate a visit."


	9. A Deadly Game

Abby's confidence in her abilities was starting to improve, if even by just a small amount. She tried not to ruminate on the fact that Hancock was with her, thus making the job easier than it would have been alone. Smiling Kate had a good share of thugs backing her, but luring them out into the open had been simple enough. Hancock and Abby were able to pick them off, one by one, until only Kate was left. Of course, Kate had proven to be a bit more clever, not allowing herself to fall prey to her hunters' tactics. This caused a lengthy standoff until Hancock had discovered a couple of grenades on the body of one of Kate's lackeys. Abby truly hated the mess that explosives caused, but it was undeniably a fast way to end a fight. Regardless, she wondered if she could perhaps train on a sniper rifle when she returned to Sanctuary, just to give her something with a bit more range that didn't cause quite so much devastation and gore.

Northy had shown himself to be much more difficult to take out, but not due to his skills or lack thereof. When they found him, he had taken off running, leaving his bodyguards to fight his battles. Chasing him down had been a pain in the neck. Abby did feel somewhat guilty about gunning down a guy who was clearly running away in a panic, but Hancock didn't seem to have any moral hesitation in shooting Northy in the back.

"You know, he probably would have surrendered if we could have gotten him to calm down for a second," Abby scolded. Hancock poked around Northy's corpse for anything useful.

"Trust me, sister, Goodneighbor's put up with his shit for far too long," he explained. "Even if he _had_ surrendered, it would have been because he was a damn coward, not because he had a sudden change of heart."

"Still seems kind of cruel to shoot someone in the back like that," she lamented, removing her hat and scarf for a moment as she tried to cool off. Running after Northy had warmed her up too much.

"I won't fault you for trying to show mercy, but some people are nothin' but piles of shit that need to be wiped off the face of the Commonwealth," he lectured. He pulled a holotape out of Northy's pocket, examining it. Abby walked over, taking the holotape from him and placing it in her Pip Boy. She hit the play button, a few clicks coming over the speakers before a woman's voice spoke up.

"Northy, Sinjin wants you to keep up the recruiting efforts. We need more warm bodies after we deal with the costume," the woman stated. "And don't worry - Kate's gathering a bunch of meatheads to take the Shroud out. The boss ain't happy. Now's not the time for failure."

Nothing the woman said really surprised Abby. It was an odd feeling, knowing she had a bounty on her head, but at least it was for all the right reasons.

"He's getting personally involved," the tape continued. "He's gonna pay the Shroud's flunky friend a 'special' visit in Goodneighbor. After he's done with that, he'll check in. He'll expect results."

The Pip Boy clicked as the holotape ended. For once, the color drained from Abby's face. She felt ill and almost light-headed as her heart sank.

"Shit - we have to get to Kent...!" she blanched, trying her best not to panic. Tears were already threatening to fall at just the idea of him getting hurt. Without even thinking twice about it, Hancock was already taking off in the direction of Goodneighbor.

"Like hell is he walking into _my_ town and messing with _my_ people....!" he growled. Abby quickened her pace to catch up. Her only priority was getting to Kent before anything happened to him.

\---

On an average day, the band of raiders that covered the area where Abby and Hancock passed through would have maybe stretched out a fight. They would have kept the two behind cover, taking shots back and forth until someone tired of the standoff. Today, however, was not an average day. Shooting at the two travelers as they were attempting to book it back to Goodneighbor was perhaps the biggest mistake this particular group of raiders had ever made. It was certainly the last mistake they would ever make. This time, Abby had pulled the pin herself before tossing the grenade at the raiders. She didn't have time to fuck around and be clean or efficient. She had a much larger priority on her list than dealing with a few scumbags. The two quickly wiped out the raider camp, causing the stragglers to retreat. Unfortunately, even the brief exchange had cost valuable minutes. By the time the two arrived at the Memory Den, it was clear Sinjin's plan had already been carried out. Bullet holes and smashed up furniture littered the place. The memory capsules had fortunately been left intact, but the wallpaper was marred with the souvenirs of Sinjin's visit.

Irma stood near the entrance, trembling. Mascara ran down her face as she dabbed at her tears with an old kerchief.

"It's you!" she exclaimed, rushing up to Abby. "Oh, sugar, I told Kent all that hero stuff was going to get you both killed! Oh God... Oh God...!"

"What happened? Where's Kent?!" Abby asked, her heart already sinking.

"Raiders... dozens of them! We tried to stop them, but... but..." Irma sniffled. Abby didn't wait to hear more. She hurried to the back room where Kent could always be found. His chair was overturned, blood splattered across it. Abby began to shake, not knowing what else to do. She sank down on the edge of Kent's bed, across from the bloodied chair. Tears were easily trickling down her cheeks. It didn't matter how hard she had tried - she wasn't a hero. She certainly wasn't the Shroud. She was just plain old Abby, a delusional girl from the past, and now she had been responsible for getting a good man killed. She felt her chest tighten as she choked out nothing but tears. Hancock sat down next to her, placing a hand on her back and rubbing it.

"C'mon, sister, breathe," he coaxed her, attempting to help her calm down. Irma stood at the doorway, still fidgety.

"When they took him, they.... they left you a message..." she informed them.

"T-took him....?" Abby asked, looking up. She wiped her puffy eyes, sniffling. "They didn't kill him....?"

"Not yet, but they're going to! Please, just listen to his radio station - their message keeps playing over and over again! Oh God...!"

Abby made a motion to get up, but Hancock placed a hand on her shoulder, encouraging her to stay seated. He reached over, turning on the nearby radio. The station started in the middle of the message, the sound of screams being heard as a voice said, "We've got business that needs finishing." A few clicks could be heard before the message started again. Kent's voice could be heard making an announcement.

"Here's a Silver Shroud update: in case you missed it, Kendra's reign of terror is over! She won't be-" he cut off, his voice interrupted by the sound of gunfire. "Wha- Oh God, what's happening?!" he began to yell. A female voice, one sounding similar to holotape they had found on Northy, spoke up.

"Sinjin - all clear!" she shouted. Footsteps could be heard, followed by the raspy voice of a man, undoubtedly Sinjin himself.

"This is the Shroud's headquarters. So you must be the Silver Shroud's little friend?" he asked.

"Y-yes..." Kent's voice barely squeaked out, sounding as though he were being choked.

"If you want to see your friend alive, Shroud, meet me at Milton General Hospital," Sinjin threatened.

"Don't do it, Shroud!" Kent interrupted, "It's a trap! Save yourse-"

Abby's heart sank further as a gunshot rang out over the radio, followed by Kent's screams.

"OH MY GOD, DO IT, SHROUD, DO IT!" he begged. "OH GOD, MY KNEE...!"

"Tick Tock, Shroud," Sinjin continued, "Don't keep me waiting. We've got business that needs finishing."

Silence filled the airways as the message came to an end. It clicked a few times before it started to repeat itself. Hancock turned off the radio, settling back down next to Abby. She had started crying again, shaking even more.

"They hurt him....!" she choked out. "It's all my fault... I didn't mean to... I never wanted....!" she began to babble between shuffled breaths and tears. Hancock hesitated for a moment before pulling her gently into a hug. He kept his hold loose enough that she could easily break away if she wanted to. Instead, she began to sob, burying her face against his shoulder.

"Hey, it'll be okay," he murmured to her, rubbing her back. "We'll save him, he'll be fine."

"You... you th-think we can....?" she mumbled from where her face was buried.

"Of course! We got the Silver Shroud on our side - what could go wrong?" he asked with a re-assuring smile. Abby pulled away, sniffling as she looked up at Hancock. Her lip still quivered as more tears threatened to come, but she rubbed at her eyes, her face even redder than its usual hue.

"Let's... let's do it, then..." she decided. She looked far from the confident Shroud she had been masquerading around Goodneighbor as, but she wasn't going to leave Kent like that. She was scared - terrified, really - but she was also furious. Kent was a sweetheart and the idea of blowing Sinjin's brains out was more than a little appealing at the moment.

"That a girl," Hancock murmured encouragingly. He moved, helping Abby get up. She still was a jittery mess, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. Hancock fished around in his pocket before pulling out a canister of jet. He slipped it into Abby's coat. "In case you need something to calm your nerves," he told her, tone clear that he wasn't going to pressure her either way. She forced a small smile, nodding in thanks. "Now," he said, "Let's go rescue Kenny-boy."

***

Sinjin had made it sound simple enough. Show up at the hospital to save Kent. Instead of an easy stroll up to the door, Abby and Hancock had to fight their way past dozens of Sinjin's guards. It was a bad day to be employed by Sinjin. Abby channeled her emotions into something much more constructive, such as slaughtering anyone who stood between her and where Kent was being held. She had finally ditched the silver machine gun, resorting to what she felt the most comfortable handling - a good old fashion rifle. Now wasn't the time to worry about appearances or staying in character. She kept her costume in place, but was more concerned about rescuing her friend. She didn't even take the time to search the bodies for caps or other useful items. All she cared about was leaving a trail of blood until she found Kent.

Hancock was a little more level-headed, even for someone who was busy sucking on orange Mentats while following along. He kept his eyes peeled for possible traps, picking up anything that seemed useful. He began to wonder if perhaps he should have fashioned a leash to Abby before they had taken off. Before, she had seemed rather cautious and uncertain in combat. Now she was reckless and ruthless in equal measure. He was starting to question whether or not he had accidentally slipped Psycho instead of Jet into her coat pocket.

After fighting their way past Sinjin's raiders, they finally made their way onto an elevator. As the doors opened, they could hear Sinjin shouting to his men.

"Hold, assholes! Anyone turns a heel and I'm coming for you and your family!"

Abby could see Kent knelt down atop a small platform. Sinjin, who was a ghoul with a rather large build, stood over Kent, pressing a gun to his head. Two raiders stood on the floor below the platform and one stood on the platform next to Sinjin. Abby stayed back in the elevator, looking over at Hancock. He was standing far enough to the side that perhaps nobody had noticed him yet. She pulled her scarf up around her face to make it difficult to see she was talking.

"Don't let them see you. I'll bait them. Just follow my lead," she murmured to Hancock. He nodded quietly. She exited the elevator, taking as many steps as she could before Sinjin halted her.

"Stop there, Shroud!" he ordered. "You step any closer and we get to see what's inside of Kent's head!"

Kent didn't even look up at Abby, keeping his gaze cast downward. He was shaking quite a bit, leaving her to wonder what the bastards had done to him. His hands were behind his back and it looked as though his feet were also bound. The entire position looked rather uncomfortable, especially knowing that his knee was injured. She had to distract them long enough for Hancock to sneak around unnoticed. It was time for the dramatics.

"You shield yourself behind an innocent!" she shouted over to Sinjin, deepening her tone as she mimicked the Shroud, trying her best to hide the quiver in her voice. "You are craven, Sinjin, and you shall fall before me!"

"Don't talk to me like that!" Sinjin spat back. "Some of these losers think you're some sort of legend. Like you walked straight out of a comic book. But you and I know, you're human. And you're weak. You came here and for what? Your little sidekick?"

Abby tensed up, wanting so badly to shoot Sinjin where he stood. She couldn't risk harming Kent, however.

"So you're the strong one, huh?" she asked. "Picking on someone who can't defend themselves?"

"Yeah, because I don't give a damn about anyone or anything!" he shouted back. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to win."

"Sounds like you're the weak one!" she retorted angrily. She couldn't help but think about how it was the people she cared about who drove her. Avenging Nate, finding Shaun, helping Preston, protecting Kent, Daisy, and the other people she had gotten to know in Goodneighbor - without them, she would have been decaying somewhere in a gutter. These were the people - the reasons - she even bothered to wake up in the morning. "You couldn't be more wrong - friends are what _make_  you strong!"

"Strong?" Sinjin laughed. "I can play you like a chump because you care about a weakling like this, and _you_  think that's _strength_?"

"I am the instrument of justice and I cannot fall!" she continued. She really hoped that Hancock had gotten in position, being uncertain as to how much longer she could keep Sinjin distracted. "Death has come for you, evildoer, and I am its Shroud!"

"Don't listen, men," Sinjin scoffed, "She's a phony! So what's going to happen is this - I'm going to kill Kent. Then we're going to shoot the hell out of you. Nothing's going to be left but paste! Then, I'm going to Goodneighbor to kill every last worthless bastard there, and burn the whole thing down! Nobody screws with Sinjin!"

Abby tried to steady her hands. His threat cut deep into her heart. She could feel tears stinging the back of her eyes, but she tried to focus on breaths, pushing them back. She wasn't just scared for her friends, she was furious.

"You son of a bitch..." she hissed. "Leave Kent and Goodneighbor out of this - I'm the one you want!"

Sinjin laughed, seemingly enjoying the Silver Shroud's rage. "Looks like my lucky day, because I'm gonna kill all of you!"

This was it. She truly hoped that Hancock was ready.

"You know what would _really_ get to Kent?" she asked. "Killing his friend - his hero - right in front of him. You want blood, come and get it!"

Sinjin looked thoughtfully at Abby, moving his gun away from Kent's head before laughing again.

"Enjoy the show, Kent! After I'm done with the Shroud, you're next," he told his hostage, pointing the gun in Abby's direction.

A gunshot rang out as Sinjin was knocked down, his knee shot out from under him. He screamed, lying on the floor in pain as blood pooled around him. His men began to panic, one of them moving toward Abby. She quickly fired her rifle, nailing him in the throat. The other two raiders backed off upon seeing this.

"Shit!" the one closest to Sinjin shouted, her voice matching the one from the radio and holotape, "It's the Shroud! It really is! Screw this!"

The two ran off, abandoning their boss.

"FUCKING COWARDS!" he shouted as they left. Abby walked up to him, placing the barrel of her rifle against his head. If she had waited a few minutes, perhaps she would have thought of something witty to say before blowing his brains out. She didn't have the patience or the temperament for that, however. The ghoul in front of her was more of a monster than the ferals that frightened her so much. She pulled the trigger, not even flinching as blood splattered against her.

She regained her senses as Kent groaned nearby, tight ropes rubbing into his wrists. Abby rushed over to him, kneeling down.

"Hancock!" she shouted.

"I got ya," he replied, running over from where he had been positioned and getting his knife out. He quickly cut the ropes, freeing Kent's hands and feet.

"Kent! Are you alright?!" she asked, hugging him. At that moment, she didn't even give any thought to him being a ghoul or anything that would normally terrify or repulse her. He was a little brother that she had almost lost, and she would gladly rip the throat out of anyone who dared lay a finger on him.

"I've never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life...!" he choked back. "My leg is k-killing me, but it could have been so much worse..."

"I saw a wheelchair upstairs," Hancock pointed out. "We could bring it back down to get him out of here."

"Good idea," she replied. "I'll stay here."

Hancock paused for a moment, quietly observing the two before nodding. "Sure... yeah - check him over - make sure he's not gonna bleed out on us," he said, walking away toward the elevator.

Abby did just that. "It's just your knee, right?" she asked. Kent continued to tremble.

"Well... Some cuts and b-bruises, too... but nothing as bad as what they did to my leg," he answered. She hugged Kent again, feeling a little shaky now that it was sinking in just how close she came to watching him die in front of her.

"I'm so glad we got here in time," she murmured.

"You and me both, Shroud," he replied. "But I don't know... I just... I give up. On all of it. Crime-fighting just isn't what I thought it'd be."

She pulled back, frowning at Kent.

"After all of this, you're just giving up? Just like that?" she wondered. Kent didn't meet her gaze, avoiding eye contact instead.

"I knew it was bad out there, but this... I don't even think the Silver Shroud himself could fix this disaster area." he murmured.

"Kent..." she sighed, her heart breaking at what had happened to his enthusiasm, "If you just quit, then the bad guys have already won..."

Kent shook his head. "You... you're right. But I'm tired. I just want to go home - back to Goodneighbor. Really, thanks for saving me, but... I'm just done."

The elevator dinged as the doors opened, Hancock departing it while pushing a wheelchair in front of him. It had seen better days, but it still seemed to be capable of achieving its purpose.

"So, down goes the big bad Sinjin, huh?" Hancock asked as he wheeled the chair over to Kent. "We get to walk that tight rope of freedom one more day." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch and tossing it to Abby. She opened it, finding hundreds of caps inside. "I told ya that you'd have my gratitude," he explained. Abby smirked in amusement.

"Really? You use me to deal with your problem and almost get Kent killed in the process, and this is all I get?" she teased. Hancock shrugged.

"I know, right? Costume crusading is a really shitty gig." he grinned.

Abby placed the pouch in Kent's hands, much to his surprise. She couldn't accept money for something that had caused him to get hurt. She wasn't exactly going to give it back to Hancock, but figured Kent could maybe get some use out of them. Kent opened his mouth to object, but was interrupted by Hancock.

"Hey, Kent, my man - why the long face? You got what you wanted!"

"I... I was t-tortured. Almost died. It's not like the radio plays at all!" Kent shuddered. Hancock helped Kent into the wheelchair.

"Hey, who hasn't been tortured from time to time?" he asked as Kent got settled. "The price of throwing down with the Man is always a few scars. Pick yourself up - Goodneighbor's just a bit safer thanks to the two of you."

"Right!" Abby chimed in. "After all, where would the Shroud be without her faithful friend, Rhett Reinhardt?!"

Kent's face lit up at the praise. "This... this means a lot to me," he beamed. "I'm gonna need some time - to heal, ya know? But then I got a special project in mind - just for the Shroud!"

Abby kept smiling, but internally sighed. Project? Not again...

"Uh-huh... um... I am planning to leave soon, you know," she pointed out.

"Oh, nothing like that!" Kent replied. "I can try tinkering - maybe make the costume even better," he explained. "Just come see me when you visit Goodneighbor and I'll let you know if I've made any progress."

"Well... that's a project I can get behind more easily," Abby decided, standing up. "Come on - let's get you back home."

\---

After getting Kent settled back at Goodneighbor and sending a doctor his way, Abby said her goodbyes. Goodneighbor wasn't perfect, but it had certainly grown on her. In a world that was completely different from the one she had left behind, it was something she was getting used to. Now it was time for her to continue on to Diamond City - even if it was a couple of months later than she had initially planned. She had what little possessions she owned packed in a bag and slung over her shoulder. She stopped by Daisy's shop on the way out to see her before leaving.

"It's going to be awfully lonely around here without you," Daisy told her.

"Then let Dogmeat stay here. He's great company," Abby replied, still being uncertain if she wanted to risk the dog getting hurt out in the Wasteland. Dogmeat whimpered nearby, looking crestfallen.

"I think he'd be happier with you," Daisy laughed. "Things are too quiet for him here, and he doesn't seem to care much for KL-E-O. I think she just doesn't smell right to him."

"Motor oil is a perfectly feminine scent!" KL-E-O called out from next door. Abby tried to muffle her giggles against the scarf around her neck. She was still wearing the Silver Shroud getup. It was more functional than the Vault-Tec jumpsuit, and certainly less likely to make her a target for people who liked to take advantage of vault dwellers. Besides, she found it suited her rather well.

"I don't know... you think you can keep up, boy, and stay out of trouble?" she asked. Dogmeat barked, tail wagging. "I guess it's settled, then."

She walked over and gave Daisy a hug. The gesture seemed to surprise the ghoul, as previously the smoothskin had been reluctant to even so much as shake her hand. She hugged back, giving her a peck on the cheek. Abby wasn't entirely over her phobia yet, but she cared deeply for the ghoul friends she had made in Goodneighbor. Her mind was slowly getting over the knee-jerk fear reaction that she initially had with them. She still didn't know if she could wake up with one next to her without screaming, but it was still progress.

"Don't forget to come visit, now, ya hear?" Daisy asked. Abby smiled.

"As soon as I find Shaun, I'll swing by so you can meet him," she promised.

"I'll hold you to it!" Daisy laughed.

Abby headed out the door, walking toward the entrance to Goodneighbor. Leaning against a stone wall nearby was Hancock.

"So, you ready to hit the road?" he asked. Abby frowned.

"I never did officially state what my decision was about taking you along," she pointed out.

"Well," Hancock retorted with a smile, "I know I'm probably not as charming as your boyfriend, ol' Kenny-boy, but I think I can still fill the role of 'exquisitely good looking ghoul companion'." Abby raised an eyebrow.

"... boyfriend....?" she asked.

"Yeah... boyfriend... or whatever it is you pre-war types call it," he replied. Abby twitched.

"How about 'brother'? 'Friend'? 'The irradiated nephew I never knew I wanted'...?" Hancock looked surprised.

"So you and Kent aren't...?"

"Oh God, no!" Abby interrupted. "He's sweet - super sweet - but that would be like.... incest? I mean, not really, but I don't think of him like that at all, no," she replied. "There's a better chance of me having something going on with KL-E-O, and she terrifies the shit out of me!"

"Admit it, honey, you like it!" came a shout from over at Kill or Be Killed.

"Good God, how sensitive are those damn sound sensors of hers...?" Abby wondered. Hancock merely laughed.

"Well, then... my offer still stands. C'mon, you know we make a good team," he tried to persuade her. Abby sighed.

"Fine, okay, but you're carrying all the heavy stuff," she decided.

"Fine by me. I packed extra Buffout just for the occasion!" he proclaimed. Abby walked on ahead, Dogmeat at her heels. She tried to not look enthusiastic about the arrangement, but truthfully she was relieved. She didn't know what dangers waited for her down the road, but at least she knew she had two loyal friends who would have her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thus ends Abigail's stay in Goodneighbor, but worry not! Her journey hasn't ended quite yet! Stay tuned for more chapters, and thankyou for all the wonderful comments/kudos/subscriptions/ect! <3)


	10. Swan's Pond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com)]

It was mid-afternoon when the three travelers left Goodneighbor. Abby led the way, keeping a map pulled up on her Pip Boy. Hancock would speak up every now and then, pointing out shortcuts. Dogmeat simply pranced along, tail wagging the entire way. The pooch seemed rather happy to be out and about with his master again. Hancock seemed rather relaxed as well, but Abby just chalked it up to the Jet he had inhaled earlier. How he could take that stuff and still be just as sharp when danger rolled around was beyond her.

The trio came across a small area that had a pavilion and a pond. Abby grinned, walking over to the fountain that was erected at the park’s entrance. She ignored various signs that talked about the Freedom Trail, seeming more interested in the fountain itself. She was amazed that the structure was still standing. The faces of lions adorned the sides of the fountain, sculptures of topless ladies circling it’s tiers. She reached out, running a finger along one of the lion’s jaws, beaming with delight.

"I vaguely remember Dad taking me here when I was little," she explained. “It seemed... much bigger back then? But I was also smaller, so..."

Hancock’s attention was drawn more to the other signs that had been erected. "Danger!", "Go Away!", and "Swan!"

"Hey, Sunshine?" he asked. "You know what a Swan is?"

"Yeah!" she replied, still examining the fountain. "They look... well, kinda like that," she pointed towards the remains of one of the swan boats nearby. "I mean, as far as being white with long necks. They're large birds - kind of like overgrown ducks. They used to have a pair here, if I recall."

"Are they anything to be worried about?" Hancock wondered.

"Well, they can be rather aggressive," she admitted. "I mean, most people associate them with grace and beauty? And they really are pretty!" she stated with a grin, "but I heard they can be temperamental - some say they can break the arm of a child. Or at least that's the rumor. I'm not really sure if that's true..."

“Sounds like a Deathclaw with feathers,” he commented. Abby giggled.

“Not quite. They're nowhere near as big as a Deathclaw, and they generally leave you alone as long as you don't harass them. They aren't even as big as those boats, really. But... why are you asking?" she wondered.

"No reason," he dismissed. If Abby said they weren't anything to be worried about, he wasn't going to dwell too much on it.

"I wonder if any of them survived the war," she hummed, walking over to the pond. "It would be nice if they did. Ducks, too!"

“Yeah,well, just to be safe, maybe we shouldn’t linger too long here,” he told her, looking around. Abby picked up a smooth stone, skipping it across the pond. Dogmeat ran up to stand beside her, tail wagging as he barked at the skipping stones.

"What's got you all paranoid?" Abby asked, picking up another rock. It skipped to the middle of the pond where a sunken swan boat could be seen. The rock made a loud thud as it collided with the wood.

Hancock didn't answer as he scanned the area, noticing a few things. Bone fragments were littered everywhere. That wasn’t entirely unusual for the Wastelands, but the large indents left in the mud looked a little too much like footprints. But what had feet that big?

“Uh…. Sunshine….?” he asked. Abby continued to toss rocks across the pond.

“What?” she replied, not turning around. The debris started to move, though she seemed unaware as she scanned the ground for more 'ammo' to toss into the pond.

“…. Abby….!” Hancock called, much louder and with more desperation in his voice. Dogmeat began to growl.

"Can you _not_ antagonize my dog?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

She looked up from her rock hunt to find Hancock and Dogmeat both staring at her. No- wait, they were staring _behind_ her? She spun around in time to see a large figure emerging from the middle of the pond. The piece of the swan boat that had been protruding from the water was fastened to the goliath's body with rope - as though he was using it for armor. She had never seen anything remotely resembling the creature before, but if she had to take a wild guess, she would have said it appeared to be the unholy spawn of a super mutant and a Deathclaw.

The monster let out a roar - giving Abby the impression that it was more animal than human, or at least it acted less human than a super mutant. It held what appeared to be an anchor in its left hand. Its right hand was equipped with part of a boat, as though it were being utilized as some sort of melee weapon. It swung the anchor around like an ax, letting it crash in the middle of the pond and sending waves splashing about. She froze up, her surroundings feeling almost surreal as the creature snorted. She couldn't seem to make her legs move. The creature was staring her down, adding to the terror. Gunshots rang out next to her as Hancock started running to the opposite side of the pond.

"HEY UGLY! Over here!" he shouted, firing off a few more rounds to get its attention. Dogmeat nudged at Abby's leg, whimpering as he tried to encourage her to move. She blinked, reality setting in. This wasn't some odd dream - this creature was real and the danger even moreso. She scrambled to find her rifle. Her hands trembled while she raised the gun. Before she could even get a shot off, she watched as the creature's crude weapon smashed into Hancock, sending him flying into a nearby building.

"..... Hancock....?!" she choked out, unable to truly find her voice. The monster was moving over to where its prey had landed. Abby had to act fast. She began firing off rounds at the beast. It turned around, glaring at her. The terrifying feeling that she wasn't harming it - only making it angrier - overwhelmed her. She fired off more rounds - one after the other after the other. How many bullets was it going to take to bring this thing down?! It let out another roar, taking off in her direction. It smashed the anchor at her as it got close. While it stopped just short of hitting her, the force of its impact against the pavement in front of her knocked her back. She scrambled to get up, running without giving it much thought. She stopped as she heard Dogmeat barking behind her, turning around to see him having a stand-down with the creature.

"Dogmeat-! No, GET AWAY!" she screamed out, her voice sounding strained. When the canine refused to listen, she shouted out again. "BAD DOG, NO!"

The sound of negative reinforcement got his attention, causing him to back off, tail between his legs. She would have felt bad about yelling at him in such a manner, but she was more concerned about keeping him alive. She would have to shower him with praise and hugs later to make up for it. She fired at the monster a few more times to ensure she kept his attention. Her tactic worked as he continued his pursuit, much faster than she had anticipated. She clearly hadn't thought this through, not sure what to do next. For lack of any better ideas, she took off running again. Ahead, she could see a building with a low archway. The archway was much too small for the creature to fit through. It was her only chance. She ducked into it, the sound of steel against concrete echoing as the building shook. The creature let out another roar, smashing its fists against the brick as it attempted to find a way through.

While she knew she could possibly just stay there until the creature lost interest, she had to get to Hancock. She tried not think of the possibility that he had been killed by the impact. She wasn't going to accept that as his fate until she could at least see it with her own eyes. She scrounged around, noticing a few decaying raider corpses nearby. She didn't have time to question how they had died. One of them had a minigun lying next to them. There were several clips still left. She attempted to pick up the gun, cursing at its weight. She filed away a mental note to lift more often when she got back to Sanctuary. She fired the gun at the monster, the recoil knocking her down. She cursed, pulling the gun into her lap and trying again, holding it as steady as she could. The creature lashed out, trying to reach through the arch to grab at whatever was making it hurt. The fact it refused to retreat was a blessing as she continued to fire bullets into it. She closed her eyes, not focusing on anything other than making certain the gun stayed pointed in the same direction.

As soon as the weapon ceased to vibrate, making a clicking noise instead to indicate that her ammo was depleted, she finally opened her eyes. Everything was quiet. The monster blocked the archway, but didn't move. She pushed the minigun out of her lap, struggling to stand up. She wasn't entirely convinced that the creature was dead. She grabbed a tin can, chucking it at the body. Still no movement. There was a gap between it and the wall that was just wide enough that she could slip through. She held her breath, creeping over and carefully maneuvering around it. She exhaled after making it through, the beast appearing to truly be dead. She looked around for Dogmeat, finally spotting him in the distance. He was over where Hancock had landed, digging at something. Abby quickly ran over, anxiety gripping her heart tightly.

"Please be alive, please be alive....!" her mind raced. As she got closer, she could make out the still body that Dogmeat was nudging. The tricorn hat was lying several feet away. She knelt down beside the ghoul, every fiber in her being fearing for the worse.

"Hancock....?" she choked out, placing a hand on the side of his face. There was blood seeping through his clothes - not much, but she worried more about the internal injuries that would have occurred. He still felt warm, his chest rising and falling as he breathed. She gently shook his shoulder. "C'mon, Hancock, you gotta wake up....!"

Dogmeat whimpered, nuzzling his hand. Abby looked around. She didn't see a single soul in the area, but that never meant much. She hesitated to move him, but she couldn't just keep out in the open. There was a building nearby with a red door. She walked over, checking it out. Inside was a long hallway that led to an elevator. The lights flickered every so often, but they still worked. There were four couches in the hallway. While she wasn't sure if danger lurked on the second floor, at least the hallway was safer than being outside. She rushed back to Hancock, gently placing her hands under his arms and attempting to lift him. He was much lighter than she would have guessed, given how much taller he was than her. She began to wonder how someone that light could have lifted her back when she arrived at Goodneighbor. She vaguely remembered him saying something about Buffout, deciding that must have been the answer to her inquiry. She carefully dragged him over to the building and through the door. Once the three were inside, she shut the door behind her, pushing a lectern against it. It wasn't the most secure setup, but at least it would make a commotion if anybody attempted to enter.

She pulled Hancock over to one of the couches, hoisting him onto it. She then turned her attention to her pack, opening it and searching for her first aid supplies. Dogmeat whimpered, padding over and sitting next to the couch. He had Hancock's hat in his muzzle, plopping it down in front of him before lying down on top of it.

"I know. Me, too, buddy," Abby murmured to the dog.  "You're a good boy," she added, remembering the harsh words from earlier.  Dogmeat wagged his tail halfheartedly at the praise.  

She finally recovered a roll of bandages and a couple of stimpaks from the bag. She knelt down next to the couch, removing Hancock's coat and wrapping the noticeable wounds. She then moved to sit on the couch, positioning herself to where his head rested on her lap. She fumbled with one of the stimpaks, worried that her hands were shaking too much. She didn't like using needles on herself, but it scared her even more to use them on someone else. She didn't want to cause more harm than good, but what choice did she have? She slid the needle under the skin of his arm, injecting the serum. She wasn't certain if she needed to use another one. She wasn't a doctor by any means. It was possible that Hancock was resistant to the medicine, given how many chems he usually had in his system. Then again, giving him more could cause an overdose. Could one overdose on stimpaks? She was too uncertain to give it a try.

She gently brushed fingers against his head, the skin feeling leathery to the touch.

"Hancock, wake up...." she murmured shakily. "Please don't do this to me...."

No response. He was alive, but what if he was in a coma? What if he had internal bleeding? She didn't know the first thing about how to handle something like that, nor did she know the nearest place to seek help.

"C'mon, please wake up....!" she begged. "I don't.... I don't know what to do...."

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she continued in vain to rouse him. Feelings of guilt festered in her gut. If only she hadn't frozen up when she did. If only she had been faster at getting the monster's attention. If only she hadn't felt the need to stop at the pond in the first place. It was all her fault.

"Please, John.....!" she sniffled, tears falling onto his face. Suddenly, he shifted, a small groan escaping his lips. "H-Hancock....?!" she stuttered, gently cupping her hand against his sunken cheek. He opened his eyes, wincing at the light that flickered from the wall lamp situated above them.

"Did you see the brand on the brahmin that stomped my head....?" he muttered. Abby let out a tear-choked laugh. She leaned over, pressing her forehead to his.

"Oh thank God..." she murmured, letting out a ragged sigh.

"Hey..." Hancock said, reaching up and brushing hair out of her face, "You cryin', Sunshine...?"

She straightened up, wiping the tears as best as she could and sniffling.

"I'm fine...." she replied, her hands still jittery.

"You don't look it," he pointed out. He moved to sit up, hissing in pain at the attempt.

"Careful!" she cautioned. "You got banged up pretty bad out there! For all I know, you may have broken bones or something...!"

Hancock let his head fall back against her lap, letting out a chuckle.

"Well, I can feel my toes... or at least the ones that are still attached," he noted, "so I can't be too bad off."

"Reeaaaally didn't need to know about the toe thing," Abby twitched.

"Hey - oversharing is one of the perks of running with me," he responded with a grin.

She picked up the remaining stimpaks she had resting on the arm of the couch, holding them up.

"I'm not even sure if these help, or how many I'm supposed to use, or....."

"Just hand 'em to me," he told her. "And if you could get a few doses of Med-X out of my pocket, that would be great..."

She worried about his request for multiple doses, but decided he knew how to handle himself better than she did. She carefully slipped out from under his head ensuring he was comfortable before moving away from the couch. She fished around in his coat pocket, locating the Med-X and bringing it to him.

"Is there any place nearby where I can get help?" she wondered.

"Nearest spot I know would be Diamond City," he replied, "and they don't exactly like my kind there."

".... they what?" she asked, the comment taking her by surprise.

"Oh yeah.... I _kinda_ meant to mention that to ya before we got there," Hancock noted sheepishly. "They... uh... kind of have an anti-ghoul policy there." Abby sighed, rubbing at her eyes in frustration.

"Would have been good to know that before we left Goodneighbor _to_ go to Diamond City, dontcha think?" she asked.

"What, and have you leave me behind? This beats mayoral duties any day of the week!" he proclaimed happily.

"You almost got your face smashed in from.... whatever the hell that thing was, and you'd rather that then be in charge of your own town?" she asked.

"Well, I can't say it's been boring so far," he pointed out. She plopped down on the floor next to the couch, frowning.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Well, for now, we make sure this is a good spot for the night," he suggested. "I take some more chems, you make sure you're not any worse for the wear, and we'll figure out the rest in the morning."

"But what if you need medical attention?" she asked. "You could be seriously hurt...!"

"This isn't the worst that's happened to me," he reassured her. "Just trust me, Sunshine - I can handle myself. We ghouls heal pretty quickly."

Abby didn't like the idea of wait-and-see, but she had very little choice. If what he said was true about Diamond City, then setting out on her own to get help wasn't an option. She didn't like the idea of leaving Hancock alone, either - even if Dogmeat stayed behind with him. She decided to trust his judgement call for the time being.

After making certain that Hancock was comfortable enough, she got up to explore. She needed the reassurance that no danger awaited for them on the second floor. The elevator lights were on, suggesting that it was still operational. She pressed the elevator button, keeping her gun at the ready. As she arrived on the second story, she could hear the sound of static playing on the far side of the room. She crept around, finding a lobby full of skeletons. The place was in rather good shape. It seemed it had perhaps been two hundred years since anyone had entered. She was surprised raiders hadn't cleared it out already.

All of the skeletons were positioned in such a way that it appeared they had been caught off guard when the bombs fell. There were several couches, chairs, and a bar. A pool table that was still in good condition was set up near the elevator. Unopened liquor bottles were scattered throughout the place. The static was coming from a nearby radio that had been left on. Abby wondered if it had really been running for over two hundred years. She walked over, turning it off. After investigating to ensure nothing was out of the ordinary, she returned back downstairs. Hancock had the crook of his arm covering his eyes, shielding them from the light of the lamp.

"Too bright?" she asked.

"A bit, yeah. Not the kind of place where you'd wanna nurse hangovers," he joked.

"Oh, I don't know... they have a fully stocked bar upstairs," she informed him. He moved his arm, looking over at her.

"No shit?" he asked. "Why are we down here again?"

"Because it's full of skeletons up there and I'd rather not move you any more than I have to," she explained.

"I'm sure the skeletons wouldn't mind," he pointed out.

Abby snorted a quiet laugh. She flipped the hallway light-switch off, leaving them in complete darkness.

"That better?" she asked.

"Mmmm.... much...." came the reply. She turned on her Pip Boy's flashlight, using it to navigate to the unoccupied couch that was situated across from Hancock's. She stretched out on the couch, killing the flashlight once she got settled.

"Promise you won't get up and will let me know if you need anything?" she asked. She didn't hear a response, causing her to worry. She turned the flashlight back on, shining it over in his direction. She could see his chest rise and fall, though it seemed he was fast asleep already. She laid there for several minutes, her mind going through a rather thorough list of things that could go wrong. What if he had a bad reaction to one of the chems and quit breathing in the middle of the night? What if he decided to get up and hurt himself in the process? What if there were rad roaches in the vents that took advantage of a free meal while they were asleep? What if-?

She finally got up, pushing her couch over to his, forming a makeshift bed of sorts. She climbed over the arm of her couch, stretching back out.

"You're gonna wake up screamin'," Hancock mumbled next to her. Abby felt her face blush, grateful that it was too dark to see anything.

".... I know," she replied softly.

"Just don't hit me when ya see this ugly mug in the morning?" he requested. She snorted a quiet laugh.

"I'll try not to," came the response.

She closed her eyes, attempting to get some sleep. Her mind had other plans, however, and continued to keep her awake with fears and worries. She kept her eyes shut, but wondered how long she had been lying there without sleep. She could hear the tiny snores that Dogmeat made from the nearby floor. She didn't hear any such sounds from Hancock. She knew it was silly of her to be so worried, but the fear ate away at her. She finally stretched out her arm, feeling around in front of her. Her hand brushed against his palm. His hand felt warm, which she took for being somewhat of a good sign.

She let her hand linger there for a moment before he shifted, his fingers interlacing with hers. She inhaled deeply, her heart beating faster. She debated quietly as to whether or not she should pull away. Was he awake? Was he aware that they were lying there holding hands? She felt strange, a feeling of excitement she hadn't experienced since the time she and Nate first started seeing each other. She knew what this feeling was, and it terrified her. She had too many responsibilities - too much baggage to be considering something like this. Besides, it wasn't as though she could guarantee he felt the same way about her. He had people back in Goodneighbor - ones he was obviously more than a little friendly with. Getting her hopes up like this? She was setting herself up for heartbreak and she knew it.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. The feeling was better than chems - even better than the Jet he had given her that one evening. It made her feel warm and safe. She continued to debate the consequences in her mind, but she soon found herself drifting off, hand still tucked in his.


	11. Better Than the Chems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Danaan13](http://danaan13.tumblr.com%22)]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry this one is so short. I spent a lot of type typing out a chapter and kept feeling unhappy with it and scrapping it, soooo.... have some more fluff. I should be good getting something out in the next day or two!)

Hancock wasn't certain what he was doing. Surely the woman next to him had only brushed her hand against his palm by pure accident. Abby was sweet to a fault, but he knew fully well that she was afraid of him. The way she averted her eyes if she noticed him staring into them - hell, she even kept her gaze just past his face when talking to him most of the time. He couldn't blame her. He was glad he was freed from his former self when he looked in the mirror, but couldn't deny the ugly staring back. The fact that her first encounters with his kind were of the feral variety didn't help things - plus, he hadn't exactly made the best first impression when she arrived, stabbing Finn and all. He could see her attempts to push past those mental barriers that were set in place. She looked at him a little longer every time she spoke to him. Daisy seemed to have made the best progress with her so far. She would actually look straight at Daisy when talking to her now. And Kent... well, he felt foolish for his assumption - after all, he should have known that she wouldn't have been interested in a ghoul in that fashion - but the way she had looked and acted around him had caught him completely off-guard.

But then, she had looked that way at him just a couple of hours earlier when he woke up to find himself in her lap. Had she really been shedding tears over him? It wasn't like it had been the first time he had seen her cry. She was perhaps the most tenderhearted person he had ever run into - a trait that he chalked up to the fact she had grown up in a different world. She may have survived the Wasteland so far, but she had yet to become completely hardened by it. It was one of the aspects about her that he loved. She wasn't bitter to the world - not quite yet. It had treated her like crap since the moment she had woken up in the vault, yet she kept trying to cling to the person she was two hundred years ago. And every time he saw tears in her eyes, he felt something stir deep within him - a feeling that made him want to go feral on whoever had caused them to appear in the first place.

She wasn't quite the doe-eyed vault dweller that he had expected when he found her dying in front of his town. He never had much of a chance to hurt those who made her cry simply because she would always beat him to it. Sure, he shot Sinjin in the knee, but she was the one who had dealt the final blow. And the behemoth... well, he hadn't asked her exactly what happened yet, but it was safe to assume that she had taken care of the problem. He had no issue believing that she was capable of killing even something that massive and dangerous. She was deceptively strong, and he was just now starting to understand what drove her. The way she had left a trail of blood through the hospital on her way to rescue Kent or the fact she hadn't let her injuries keep her from seeking help for Dogmeat? She was a decent fighter to begin with - he would give her that - but it was during moments where someone she cared about was in danger that she seemed the most strong-willed. So taking down a super mutant behemoth simply to save him? The idea wasn't too far stretched.

But then that would mean what? That she cared about him? He already figured that much, but he couldn't help but assume it was in the same way that she cared about Kent or Daisy. Nothing she had said or done in the past two months had suggested anything beyond a platonic friendship. That was... until now. He gently circled his thumb along her palm. He could hear her snoring, not seeming bothered by the motion. It felt strange to him - the sensation he had inside of him just by holding her hand. He was no stranger to intimate relationships, but most of those normally consisted of people trying to get on his good side and willing to show him a night of passion in hopes of using him for their own purposes. He didn't really care - he had what they needed, they had what he wanted, it was a pretty fair exchange. Even if they changed their minds at the last minute - decided the ugly wasn't worth it - that was okay. Sometimes just the company was good enough for him. But with her? It was an entirely different feeling. He had wanted to protect her from the moment he had seen her in that vault suit, Finn holding her by the throat. That feeling only grew more intense as time passed. The warmth he felt from being around her gave him a high that was at least 80% as good as the chems.

He heard her teeth chattering as she began to shake. It was rather cold in there, though he was probably more used to it. He wanted so badly to just pull her near to share the warmth, but he knew that would be a bad idea. He was already worried enough that she would freak out when she woke in the morning and saw his face. Waking to find herself being spooned by a ghoul? Well, if he ever wanted to find out if someone could be bludgeoned to death by a Pip Boy, that was one way to go about it.

He carefully slipped his hand out of hers, moving to get up. He bit his lip as pain tugged at his chest. He was trying not to wake her up, but he felt as though a Deathclaw had used him as a chew toy. The Med-X was wearing off, giving him another reason to get up. He crawled over the arm of his couch, glad to find that he didn't seem to have broken legs or anything to that effect. He suspected fractured ribs, but he had dealt with that enough times in the past. He could easily fake being okay if that was he worst he had. He looked around, his eyes nicely adjusted to the darkness. Dogmeat raised his head nearby at the sound of movement, but didn't make a peep. Good dog. Hancock found his coat, placing a hand inside one of the pockets and feeling around for the chems. He was glad he came fully stocked. He had also stashed more in Abby's bag, just in case.

He climbed back over the couch, still hearing her soft snores and her chattering teeth. She was curled into a tight ball, shivering. He gently draped his coat across her. She began to uncurl slightly at the sudden influx of warmth. He smiled quietly, shifting to get comfortable on his couch before injecting the Med-X. He inhaled a hit of Jet just for good measure. It helped with the physical pain, but it wasn't quite enough to numb the festering emotions that were starting to take hold. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to be _that_ high.

He laid back, staring at the ceiling while he listened to the chorus of snores between Abby and Dogmeat. He eventually came up with an idea. He reached over, carefully pulling off her Silver Shroud hat and trying to unwrap the scarf around her neck. The attempt caused her to shift, pulling his arm into a hug. He froze, the position being too awkward to stay in comfortably for long. He slowly pulled at the hold, managing to successfully escape the grip. He then settled down, placing the hat and scarf around his head and face, concealing himself rather nicely. He hoped it would be enough to keep her from losing her shit when she woke up. He closed his eyes, letting the chems kick in and drag him off into slumber.


	12. The Interview

Abby fidgeted in the foldout chair . She had never been interviewed before – not like this, anyway. School newspapers were small fish, but Publick Occurrences? She had the feeling this paper was a pretty big deal. She remembered seeing issues of it scattered around Goodneighbor. She had picked one up and skimmed through it, rather enjoying the advice columns. Why would anyone really care to read about her own thoughts on things, however?

“Um… no offense, but did you _have_ to bring _him_?” the woman in the red coat and hat asked, pointing at Hancock. The ghoul was leaning against a wall, looking unbothered by the question. Abby had tried to encourage him to sit down, but he was being stubborn about it. He kept insisting, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, that he was fine. His disregard for his own health was starting to weigh heavily on Abby, more than he realized. The fact that this woman, a reporter named Piper Wright, was antagonizing him didn’t help matters.

“What can I say? When I heard she was taking off with Little Miss Reporter, I started to get jealous,” Hancock grinned.

“I can't tell if that's a compliment or a pickup line, but I’m going to just pretend you’re not here.” Piper sighed.

Abby wound a long strand of loose hair around her fingers, trying to keep her cool. Her knee-jerk reaction was to tell Piper to back off of her friend, but the reporter was the only person they had run to in Diamond City so far who had actually seemed upbeat and helpful. She didn’t need to burn bridges if she could help it. Along with that, she also got the impression that some of the banter was tongue-in-cheek. It was hard to tell, given that both resorted to sarcasm rather frequently. It was clear that they had met before, though to what extent Abby could only guess.

“So, back to what I was asking,” Piper noted, returning her attention to Abby. “Is it really true? That you were frozen for over two hundred years?!”

“Y-yeah,” Abby replied, looking up from where she was fidgeting.

“Must be quite the shock – what do you think of the Commonwealth so far?”

“I… well, it's different," she admitted. "Kind of a shock, but... well, the Minutemen have been very nice… and Goodneighbor...“

“Ugh, please don’t tell me that’s one of the first places you got impressions from?” Piper replied, making a face. Abby chewed irritably at her lip. That did it.

“ _Actually_ ,” she spoke up, sounding more aggressive in tone, “yeah, the place looks harsh. In fact, it can be downright scary there. And there’s a lot of bad there – people who take advantage of others. But…. there's also a lot of good there. People who watch out for each other. They band together and really care. They’re not the most polished, sure… but if a stranger shows up needing help? They don’t just turn a blind eye.”

Piper wrote down notes furiously. “You seem to feel pretty strongly about that,” she hummed.

“Yeah, well, I stumbled into Goodneighbor literally dying. They picked me up and got me help. Gave me a place to stay and what I needed to heal. They didn’t have to, but they did. Since I’ve arrived in Diamond City, though? Oh where do I even start…!”

Piper leaned forward a bit, looking intrigued. “Do tell?! How does the Green Jewel of the Commonwealth measure up against... the town voted best place to go of you’re looking to get stabbed or stoned?”

“Pretty poorly,” Abby responded. “First, it doesn’t help when my _friend_ ,” she emphasized, making certain the reporter was fully aware that she wasn’t going to tolerate any hatred towards Hancock, “isn’t even allowed in here because of what he is! Non-ferals have been some of the nicest people I’ve run into out in the Wasteland, but they’re banned here?!”

“Well,” Piper explained, “I won’t pretend to support the ban, but most people point to the feral attack that happened around ten years ago as just cause for the law. One of the ghouls turned and attacked someone.”

“And how many times had that happened compared to the amount of times a normal run-of-the-mill smoothskin killed for no reason?” Hancock interjected.

“…. I’m kind of interviewing _her_ , if you don’t mind?” Piper reminded him.

“But he’s right,” Abby agreed. “And the mayor who passed it? I got to meet him earlier. My husband was murdered and my infant son kidnapped. I asked him for help and he told me he didn’t have the time or resources to spare. He couldn’t even give me directions to the detective agency! Just told me to go look it up before he took off for ‘important business’.”

“Yeah, that sounds like McDonough,” Piper quipped.

“And then we got to a doctor to make sure Hancock was okay because this…. giant _thing_ with the swan boat almost killed him-“

“Wait, you mean the behemoth at Swan’s Pond?” Piper asked.

“Uh…. I guess….?”

“Oh man!” Piper chimed excitedly, “I’ve been getting reports in all day of someone killing it! That thing is like an urban legend! Nobody goes around there unless they’re doing some stupid dare!”

Abby looked down at her hands, having shredded the little piece of hair she had been twirling. “Well…. We didn’t know…. “

Piper turned around, looking at Hancock. “Seriously, you didn’t know about ol’ Swann?”

Hancock scratched his chin, humming. “Well…. Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall someone talking about something big around there… it’s kind of fuzzy. I think I had a bad trip the night that story got told..."

Abby sighed. Typical. Why was she letting this guy run with her again? She looked up, glancing over at him. He gave her an encouraging smile as soon as their eyes met. She quickly looked away, hoping he couldn’t tell her blush from her usual hue. Oh. _Right._

“But… well, like I said," she continued, "We tried to get a doctor here to look at him, but he got mad the moment he figured out he was a ghoul. Threatened to have us kicked out if we didn’t leave his office.”

“Yeah, I caught the tail end of that conversation,” Piper grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him panic like that before!”

It was true – Abby had made quite the scene at Dr. Sun’s office. Waking up to find Hancock wearing her hat and scarf had given her an idea. She had lent him the scarf and gloves, obtaining a pair of sunglasses from the second floor of their little safe house. Together, the getup had concealed Hancock’s ghoulish qualities rather nicely. The only one she knew it couldn’t fool was the doctor – not if they wanted his help. On the journey over, she had decided on a backup plan. She wasn’t certain if it would work, but it was worth a shot. The moment Dr. Sun tried to kick the two out of his clinic, the waterworks had begun.

“B-but…. I was f-frozen in a vault for two hundred years!” she had sobbed loudly. She hated being stared at, but the embarrassment of drawing a crowd made it that much easier to keep the tears flowing. For once, her anxiety had become quite useful. “And-and I just woke up to f-find my husband murdered and my baby boy kidnapped!" she had continued. "And I’ve been _so alone_ \- everyone has been _so mean_ ….! B-but I just f-found my brother? But he…. He became like _this_ during the war! But I-I don’t care because I love my brother so much…! But he’s hurt and might be d-dying and then… then I’ll be all alone again….!”

The dramatics had worked like a charm. Dr. Sun had immediately tried to calm the frantic woman down, agreeing to see her ‘brother’ if she would simply be quiet. Not only did he examine Hancock, but the cost of entire visit had been on the house.

“Just don’t tell anyone you were ever here! I could lose my business – and get kicked out of the city!” he had told them in hushed whispers. Piper had walked in midway through the display, prompting her to request an interview with the vault dweller.

“You know, that was actually rather therapeutic, “ Abby replied, looking up at Piper and smiling a little. “I just wish I had thought to ask him to toss in some free stimpaks while I was at it.”

Piper scribbled in her notepad. “Don’t worry,” she informed her. “I'll edit things down. Don't want to get you in trouble over your…..brother, did you say it was?”

“Can’t you see the family resemblance?” Hancock teased.

“Oh, it’s uncanny!” Piper grinned.

“Well, after that,” Abby continued, “I asked a shopkeeper for directions and got accused of being a synth. I mean, do I look like a robot?!”

“You’re…. not really aware of what a synth is, are you?” Piper questioned.

“I’ve heard the word mentioned in Goodneighbor," she answered. "They’re androids, right? Like Mr. Handy or Assaultrons?”

Piper looked over at Hancock questionably. He shrugged in return.

“She never asked,” he said in his defense. “Believe me, enough shit has happened to her since she walked out of that vault, the last thing she needed was Institute paranoia and conspiracy theories shoved down her throat.”

“Okay, okay,” Piper sighed, looking back to Abby. “A synth is basically that – a synthetic person. They're sent from their hidden labs to do the Institute's dirty work. Sometimes they even kidnap people and replace them with a synth double. A little covert agent no one would ever suspect."

"That's.... alarming," Abby muttered, eyes widening a bit.

"Yeah, well, I'm not saying the Institute is behind every kidnapping, but you grow up in the Commonwealth? Someone's eventually going to go missing."

"So... they look just like real people, then?" she asked.

"Some do," Piper explained. "Those types have skin, blood, warm smiles, and guilty glances just like a good, old-fashioned human. There's another type that's easier to identify. The skin looks plastic, the skeleton might be showing... you usually find them scouring the Commonwealth, killing people and scavenging what's left."

Abby twitched. Great - here was something to give ferals a run for their money in the 'scary wasteland shit' department.

"Well, either way, I'm not a synth, but can I just buy bottle of Nuka Cola? Nope! Because I _might_ be one." she shook her head in frustration.

"Sounds like typical Myrna," Piper mused. "Don't pay her any mind - she does that to everyone. Just wait until her shift ends and buy from Percy. He won't give you any issues."

"Super," she sighed. Well, then I figured let's go to the taphouse - surely we can get a drink there? Only to have some uppidy asshole tell us not to sit anywhere in his vicinity or so much as breathe in his direction, and then the Mr. Handy bartender has the nerve to tell us that we're not high class enough to be there. My house pre-war was ten times cleaner than that place, but I'm not classy enough?"

"You know, venting is fine, but Diamond City isn't really as bad as you think," Piper pointed out.

"Well, you're the only half-decent person I've met so far," Abby retorted.

"Well..... thanks... I think?" she smiled, writing down a few more notes. "Okay, so, the Green Jewel hasn't really left a good impression. What about the rest of the Commonwealth? Any words you want to leave them with? Particularly the people who are also struggling to find missing loved ones?"

Abby thought for a moment, staring down at her ring that she turned around and around on her finger. She looked up, looking at Hancock, who was still giving her a reassuring smile.

"I guess.... that they shouldn't give up," she murmured. "That it's tough out there, and there's some true evil that lurks, but.... there's good in it, too. They can't just lose hope, and they should never stop fighting to bring back those they love, or protect the loved ones who are still with them."

"A strong note to end on, Blue," Piper grinned. The nickname that the reporter had given her was already starting to grow on Abby, even if she didn't wear the jumpsuit much these days. "It's gonna take some time to put this all together, but I think your story is going to give Diamond City plenty to talk about."

"Mostly bad," Abby snorted a small laugh.

"I'll.... try to be kind in editing," Piper re-assured her. "I don't want to bury your message or anything, but it'd be nice to not see you getting kicked out over this. But for your trouble, I can accompany you over to see Nick Valentine!"

"No offense, but she already has someone who knows his way around here," Hancock noted.

"Didn't Dr. Sun say you needed to get bedrest for those fractured ribs?" Piper asked.

"..... she does have a point," Abby pointed out.

"Fuck that, I'm comin' with," Hancock argued. "Besides, I haven't seen ol' Nicky in quite some time. It'd be rude to not pop in and say 'hi'."

"Well, to be honest, I was kind of hoping to see where this story went," Piper explained.

Abby sighed. "Fine, fine, how about you both come? But after, please let's just go to the inn and rest? The doctor said you could re-open your wounds or worse if you don't take it easy, and I don't wanna leave Dogmeat alone for long..."

"Always the worryin' type," Hancock shook his head, a small coy smirk still on his face.

"Well, come on, then!" Piper offered, moving over to the door. "And on our way, I'll show you how to order noodles from Takahashi!"

"Why would you need to-?" Abby started to ask before shaking her head. "Nevermind. Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season! Thankyou for your wonderful comments and kudos!)


	13. A Night to Forget

The trip to the Valentine Detective Agency didn't go quite according to plan. The trio arrived to find the neon sign outside turned off. The door was locked tightly, an out of business sign posted on it. The unexpected turn of events left Hancock and Piper scratching their heads.

"Ol' Nick never sleeps, let alone closes shop," Hancock had pointed out.

"Usually Ellie keeps the place open while he's out on a case," Piper added. "I heard a rumor that he was taking longer than usual on this last one, but I didn't think it was quite that serious...."

It was ultimately decided that Piper would do some digging around and see if she could locate Ellie to inquire as to Nick's whereabouts. In the meantime, for a lack of any better ideas, Hancock and Abby were to sit tight and wait on news. Finding Shaun was a dead end already - without Valentine, they would have to seriously re-assess what direction to go in next.

"Just give me a couple of days at the most," Piper had told them. "I'll find something - don't you worry!"

Her enthusiasm was contagious enough. To an extent, Abby was relieved over the prospect of having downtime before taking further action. Hancock's injuries worried her and she was starting to understand just how much he tried to play it off as being 'nothing'. At least this forced both of them to get some much needed rest.

The two sat at the bar in the lobby of the Dugout inn, Hancock having insisted on grabbing a drink. At least the bartender here seemed less inclined to act as though the two weren't high class enough for his service. Vadim was a rather cheerful man, even if he seemed to have a rather violent sense of humor.

"Just a beer is fine," came Hancock's muffled request from behind the scarf he was still wearing.

"And for the lady?" the bartender asked. Abby frowned as she looked at the menu. It was filled with the usual - beer, vodka, rum, and something called a 'Dirty Wastelander'. She wasn't about to order something with that name.

"Um.... just a Nuka Cola, thanks," she finally replied. Hancock shook his head.

"C'mon, sister, you gotta order something stronger than that!" he insisted.

"Why? I'll just end up spitting it out," she argued.

"You really don't like alcohol at all, do ya?" he wondered. Abby made a face.

"Well, not the shit that gets served around these parts," she explained. "It was different back before the war. Bars used to offer these neat fruity mixed drinks? They were so good! But I don't even know if most of the fruit even grows anymore..."

"You want mixed fruit drink? That I can make!" Vadim declared proudly. Abby gave him a skeptical look.

"Um.... the word 'fruit' still means the same thing today, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Just let the man do his job," Hancock lectured. "I'll pay, so if you don't like it then no skin off your back."

Abby sighed. "Okay, fine, whatever," she grumbled. The bartender retreated to the back room for more supplies, returning a moment later with a small box filled with berries of some sort.

".... What're those?" she asked, leaning further over the counter to get a better look.

"Tarberries! Freshest in Commonwealth!" he declared happily.

"Tarberries, huh?" Hancock asked in an amused tone. "Ya know, there's only one place I can think of that grows those, and they usually don't do business with the likes of Diamond City..."

"I... uh.... had them special ordered," the bartender nervously informed them. "My brother has a special trade deal - you would have to ask him."

"Uh-huh..." Hancock replied skeptically. A moment later, the drinks were served - a beer to Hancock and the tarberry hurricane to Abby.

"Give it a try! You'll like it!" Vadim proclaimed proudly. Abby stared at the cup with uncertainty. The glass itself was off-color, making her wonder how long it had been since it had last been cleaned. The drink had a purple tint to it, though it didn't look unpleasant. It smelled rather strong, causing her to hesitate. She was used to calmer drinks such as daiquiris - not something that smelled like the contents of an entire bar had been dumped inside. Knowing all eyes were on her, however, she carefully gave it a sip. A tangy flavor hit her tongue, lingering even after she had swallowed.

".... oh wow...!" she exclaimed. "This is really good....!"

"See! I told you!" Vadim grinned.

"Well, now that we got you something you'll actually keep down, how about we retreat to the room to finish these?" Hancock asked.

"Why? You're at the bar now!" Vadim pointed out. "You stay here to drink!"

"Uh... yeah, look, buddy - this scarf? I'm kinda wearing it 'cause I'm sick," he lied. "You don't want me coughing up all over your bar, ya feel me?"

Vadim twitched, finally waving his hand at the two. "Go, go, take your germs elsewhere!" he scoffed.

The two got up from the bar, carrying their drinks to their room. It was only a few paces to reach the door. Dogmeat was waiting inside, tail wagging at the sign of his masters returning. He bounded up to Abby, stretching up and attempting to sniff at the drink she held.

"Hey, boy! Down - this isn't for puppies!" she laughed, making her way over to the couch. Hancock slipped something that looked like dried meat out of his pocket, tossing it over to the canine before moving to sit down next to her. Dogmeat snatched it up quickly enough that Abby had to question whether or not he had even bothered to taste the treat before gulping it.

"Damn, this is good," she stated again, sipping at the drink. "So this is... what's it called? Tarberry?"

"Yeah - they're actually kinda hard to find," Hancock noted, tossing the scarf to the side so he could take a swig of the beer. "There's a small farm up north that grows 'em - made up entirely of ghouls."

"Wha-?" she asked in surprise. "Is that why you were giving the bartender such a hard time?"

"Pretty much," he replied, taking an inhaler of Jet out of his pocket. "They don't usually do business with Diamond City - kind of a big 'fuck you' to the anti-ghoul policy. This guy really must have pulled some strings to get those."

"I think I saw some in Daisy's store, but I wasn't really sure if I wanted to try something I didn't recognize," she admitted.

"Yeah," Hancock grinned, "There's this doctor that comes down from the farm every so often to get supplies in Goodneighbor? He brings a whole batch of the stuff to trade. Makes for some amazing Mentats flavoring."

"Somehow I figured chems fit in somewhere," she sighed.

"Speaking of which, Jet?" he offered, holding out an inhaler.

"Really?" Abby asked, eyeing it with an unimpressed expression. "You know that junk will kill you, right?"

"We're trekking all over the Commonwealth and you're scared that Jet's gonna be what does you in?" he asked.

"Well, I mean," she explained, "It would kinda suck to survive an attack from that swan monster, only to kick the bucket because of drugs..."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, tucking it back into his pocket, "but I'll tell ya - it makes the effects of alcohol _amazing_. Also intensifies the taste of tarberries."

Abby sighed. "If I take a hit, will you back off?" she asked. Hancock frowned at the question.

"I'll back off even if you don't take it," he replied. "But you always seem on edge. I think some Jet would do you some good, but I'm not about to force feed chems to anyone."

She hated to admit it, but he was right about the feeling Jet gave her. She remembered how it had melted away her anxiety the first time she took a hit. And the encounter with the ghouls? It kept her from letting the panic outright kill her.

"Okay, I'll take some, but I don't want it to become a habit, ok?" she decided.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Okay, first you hassle me about not taking it and now you're hesitating giving it to me?" she asked irritably. "What the hell - do you want me to take this or not?"

"I just wanna make sure it's what _you_ want," he emphasized. "Look - I respect whatever decision you make, but I worry about how tense you get. You work yourself up worrying about everyone else - you don't spend enough time worrying about _you_. It's gotta be tiring."

Abby blushed. "You're worried about me?" she asked.

"Yeah, well, apparently the feeling is contagious," he laughed. Abby smiled faintly.

".... I'm sure I want the Jet," she decided. Hancock passed her an inhaler. She placed it in her mouth, pressing down the pump as she breathed in the chemical. As before, the world slowed around her. She could literally feel her muscles releasing tension. She took a sip of her drink, the taste feeling amplified. He had been right about how it really brought out the flavor in things. It was wonderful and it only made her want it all the more.

"Uh... sister? You might wanna slow down a little, there," Hancock pointed out. She had already drained most of the glass, the sweetness of the tarberries masking the taste of the vodka, rum, and whatever the hell else was in the drink.

"Why? I feel fine...." she replied. It only took a brief moment before everything hit her at once. Her body felt numb, but relaxed. She was slightly dizzy, but not in an unpleasant way. More importantly, everything felt great. She didn't remember much of what happened next, everything around her becoming one giant blur.

\---

Hancock knew that Abby was a lightweight when it came to chems and alcohol. Part of him would almost have felt guilty at trying to persuade her to take Jet, if not for the fact that he truly believed that it would do her more good than harm. She had been fretting like a mother hen ever since the incident with the behemoth. She had gone from never looking at him to catching every little wince he made. Any slight motion that implied he may be uncomfortable was interpreted by her as a sign that he was dying of internal injuries. It would have been annoying if not for the sweet sentiment behind it.

She worried about him - something that made his heart beat a little faster every time he stopped to consider it. He knew it didn't mean much - she worried about other people as well. Her feelings towards him were probably no greater than that of a close friend or even a brother. Still, even if he found himself wishing that it were something more meaningful, even that kind of platonic relationship was enough to make him smile. He didn't have many friends - not genuine ones, anyway. There were people he interacted with, people he trusted, but then there were people he truly considered to be real friends. The individuals who fell into that category were scarse, but he valued them more than anything else. She had easily managed to wedge her way into that group and he wasn't about to destroy what they had over a silly crush.

But now here she was - drunk and high and crawling all over him. She was going to feel this in the morning. She propped her chin up on his shoulder, pressing her body against his side.

"Mmmm.... I like thish coat..." she slurred, hands wandering along his chest.

"Heh... you really don't wanna do that," he told her, trying to nudge her away. She didn't know what she was doing. As much as he wanted to take advantage of that, this wasn't his style. He wanted her, but not like _this_.

"I want what I want, and I want your coat...." she continued. Hancock gave her an amused look.

"Just the coat, huh?" he asked.

".... 'n the hat," she mumbled.

"Alright, then," he decided, humoring her. He stood up, shedding the coat and placing his hat on her head. She slipped the coat on, tugging it around her and leaning back into the couch.

"Mmmm.... it's warm...." she hummed, her face matching the coat in hue. If a single dose of Jet combined with an alcoholic beverage did this to her, he could only imagine what something stronger would have done. She reached up, grabbing his arm and trying to force him to sit back down.

"Maybe it's best that I go sit over there," he noted, gesturing at the empty chair across the room. The tugs became more insistent.

"Stay here...?" she asked. He sighed. This was a bad idea and he knew it. He settled back down, only to soon find himself with the woman in his lap. Fuck.

"Abby...." he tried to warn her. Much to his surprise, she simply curled up, placing her head against his chest. Her breathing slowed as small snores could be heard. "Hey?" he asked, wondering if she had really just fallen asleep. Nothing seemed to rouse her. He was glad she hadn't tempted him any more than he already had been, but now he was in quite the awkward situation. He stayed put for awhile, just listening to her breathing. When was the last time he had felt like this towards anyone? He couldn't even remember.

He slowly moved to get up, placing his arms under her to scoop her into a carry hold. He walked over to the bed, gently depositing her onto it. The room had come with only one bed, though he had figured he would just sleep on the couch. He knew it wouldn't be the most comfortable sleeping arrangement. Between the pain in his ribs and the fact that the couch was quite short, he wasn't really looking forward to it. He quietly debated piling up the cushions from both the couch and the chair to create a makeshift bed on the floor.

".... don't leave me..." Abby murmured. Hancock looked back over at her. She was clutching one of the pillows, still appearing to be asleep. Her expression and the way she gripped the pillow made him wonder what kind of dream she was having. One could guess it wasn't a pleasant one.

"You still asleep?" he asked softly. He heard quiet sniffling. Was she crying?

"Miss you..." came the muffled muttering as she pressed her face up against the pillow. Hancock sighed. He sat down on the bed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Sunshine, you're having a nightmare..."

His thoughts were interrupted as Abby caught him off-guard, rolling over and hugging his arm against her tightly. He knew he should just pull away, or at the very least go cover his face so she didn't flip out when she woke up. He was sick of wearing that damn scarf, though. He sighed, pushing her over just enough to give himself room on the bed. He stretched out, finding himself in an even more compromised position as she cuddled closer, hugging him against her as though he were the pillow. He placed an arm around her, giving a small hug in return.

"Don't leave...." she whispered again. The words tugged at him violently.

"Don't worry, Sunshine. I'm right here," he whispered back. "I'm not going anywhere."

\---

Abby found herself back in the vault. She banged on the window of the cryogen pod, trying her best to break the glass. It was difficult to breathe. She wasn't normally claustrophobic, but this place made her feel as though the walls were closing in. She could see the man with the scar on the other side - the one she often fantasized about killing time and time again. Nate was in his cryogen pod, holding their baby. She didn't want to witness this again. Anything but this.

"Fuck - leave him alone!" she pleaded as she kicked the door. The man ignored her, pointing a gun at Nate. The gunshot echoed, her own chest aching in pain, as though she herself had been shot. No wounds were there, but the scene was the same - Nate lying there in his pod, limp and bleeding. Suddenly her door opened. She got out, rushing over to Nate. The man and the two others who were with him had vanished with Shaun. Nate stared at her, mouthing silently. He was still alive, but barely. She pulled him against her, hugging him.

"No no no, don't leave me...!" she pleaded with him. He felt so light - why did he feel so light?

"... still asleep..." she could barely hear him mumble. She started to cry, her heart breaking all over again.

"God, I miss you," she whispered to him. His breathing ceased, everything growing cold around her. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Sunshine..." a voice said behind her. She turned around to see Hancock kneeling next to her. She sniffled, hugging him tightly.

"He left me.... he left me again....!" she sobbed against him. She felt his arms wrap around her, making her feel safe and warm. "Please don't leave me...." she begged.

The warmth continued as he simply stayed there, letting her cling to him as long as she needed. Being near him was like a salve for the gaping hole in her heart. Or perhaps it was closer to Med-X. It wasn't healing the shattered pieces, but it was certainly numbing the pain to the point that it was starting to become bearable.

\---

Abby's head felt like it had been mauled by a Deathclaw. She opened her eyes, the light from the small lamp across the room even being enough to make it pound more. What did she do that night? The details on everything felt fuzzy at best.

Her back also wasn't feeling great, having slept in a position that wasn't the most comfortable. What was she leaning against? She looked over to find a sleeping Hancock, arms still curled around her.

At first, her reaction was to scream as she came face to face with a ghoul. She couldn't manage to do more than squeak out a small sound, her throat feeling dry. It bought her enough time to realize that it wasn't a feral, however. Her heart was pounding - mostly due to the shock she had received, but also from the realization that she had been using Hancock as a pillow. Of course, part of the reason she had mistaken him for a feral in the first place was due to the absence of his hat and coat. She looked down, not finding herself too surprised that the coat was wrapped around her. What caught her off-guard was the fact she was actually _wearing_ it rather than just using it as a blanket. Even more alarming was the tricorn hat that was perched on top of her head.

"What the fuck did I do last night...?!" she began to internally panic.

She didn't get a chance to ponder the question for very long before a loud knock came at the door.

"It's Piper - I've got news!" a voice called out from behind it. Hancock shifted, the sound having woken him. He stared blankly at Abby, as though he were trying to remember what happened that night as well. She got up, walking over to the door and opening it. Piper stood there, a bag with baked goods of some sort in hand. She stared at Abby, speechless with wide eyes.

"Um... hey...." she finally spoke up, holding up the bag. "I... brought breakfast along with news... but... uh... if you're busy...."

It took Abby a moment to realize why Piper was acting so strangely. She looked down, remembering that she was wearing Hancock's clothes. Embarrassment took its hold over her.

"I... I can explain....!" she started to blabber. To be honest, she wondered if she truly _could_ explain it. She wasn't even entirely certain as to what had transpired.

"Don't get all excited," Hancock spoke up nearby. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his head. "She had a little too much to drink and was really insistent on taking the coat and hat. Nothing happened."

Abby felt a little relief at his words. Sure, he could have just been lying to save his own hide, but she did wake up with all her clothes on. In fact, she had woken up wearing even _more_ clothes than when she had passed out. It still didn't kill the embarrassment she felt of having Piper catch her like that, though.

"Hey, not my place to judge," Piper noted, walking inside. "Even if something did happen, I _really_ wouldn't wanna know."

"I thought you liked snooping into everything," Hancock teased.

"Well, I have to draw the line _somewhere_ ," Piper retorted. "But.... forget that - I have some news!"

"Good or bad?" Abby asked, grabbing one of the pastries that Piper had brought. It was still warm and ooh - was that mutfruit filling? She wasn't aware that food still had the potential to taste this good.

"A little of both," she replied. "The good news is that I found Ellie! The bad news is... apparently she closed the agency because Nick went missing a little while back and she doesn't think he's returning."

".... What?!" Hancock asked, seeming more alert now.

"Yeah, he went after a guy named Skinny Malone? Ellie told him it was a bad idea, but you know how stubborn Valentine can be."

"Shit...." he cursed, standing up. He started to gather gear together, looking rather on-edge.  
  
"You okay, Hancock?" Abby asked. He paused, looking over at her.

"Nick's a friend, you dig?" he told her. "I don't have many of 'em, so it's kinda important that the ones I _do_ have stay alive. I hope you're not too hungover, Sunshine, 'cause we got work to do."


	14. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Skizoh](http://skizoh.tumblr.com)]

The prospect of returning to Swan's Pond didn't exactly thrill Abby. Even less motivating was the idea of setting foot in a vault ever again. As fate would have it, however, that was where Nick Valentine was supposedly being held captive. Ellie had informed Piper that Nick had vanished when investigating the whereabouts of a girl named Darla. It was suspected that Skinny Malone had something to do with her disappearance. Formally from Goodneighbor, Skinny and his gang had taken up residence in Vault 114. The vault had been built in a subway station located next to the pond. Ellie had no doubt that Nick could be found there, though it was questionable as to whether or not he was still alive. Piper had convinced her to re-open Valentine's office, re-assuring her that Nick would be brought back safe and sound. This promise gnawed at Abby's conscious. She only hoped that they could stay good to their word.

Abby's stomach turned from the putrid smell of the subway. It wasn't helping the lingering effects of her hangover, but she didn't verbally complain. Hancock was clearly worked up about Nick being in trouble, and as much as she wanted to dissuade him from coming along, she knew it would be pointless to even try. It did bring a certain amount of warmth to her heart to see him so concerned for a friend. Seeing this side of him made her heart beat a little faster, whether or not she wanted it to.

Piper coming along had been rather beneficial. She wasn't too bad of a shot when it came to using a pistol. They had left Dogmeat behind with Ellie, so the extra muscle was certainly appreciated. Dogmeat seemed to like Valentine's assistant, having immediately approached her in an attempt to get pettings. Then again, Abby would have been concerned if he hadn't taken well to her. He was rather easy to please, leaving her skeptical of any person he seemed to distrust. He had growled at Mayor McDonaugh, after all.

Navigating through the vault was proving to be more of a hassle than she originally pictured. Triggermen and turrets were stationed around every corner. Skinny Malone seemed to have quite a bit of manpower - enough to force the three to work at getting inside. While it wasn't a walk in the park, Abby was at least glad no ferals seemed to be around. There seemed to be a large amount of non-ferals in Malone's gang, but she had expected that when Hancock told her Malone hailed from Goodneighbor. Even without that knowledge, the suits and hats everyone wore certainly gave off an old mobster vibe that Goodneighbor seemed to embody.

The trio continued to push their way through the vault, taking a 'shoot first' approach when possible. As much as Abby hated to not give anyone a chance to surrender, she couldn't afford that luxury. They were greatly outnumbered by Malone's men - a stealthy approach being the best method to avoid getting overrun. As they entered a hallway, Abby saw three triggermen - two humans and a ghoul. They were too busy talking to notice Abby approaching, giving her the upper hand. She motioned for the others to stay quiet as she crept up behind them.

"... then why don't ya just quit?" one of the humans asked the ghoul.

"It ain't that simple," the ghoul replied. "Skinny's got all my debts under his thumb. If I just skip town, who knows? Maybe he'll even send _you_ to break my kneecaps."

"You know he won't do that," the other human laughed. "Kneecaps aren't effective enough - he'll send us to off ya!"

The ghoul echoed the laughter. "Yeah, well, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. I'm getting too old for this shit. Not like I got anyone waitin' on me anywhere."

Something about the ghoul's voice was familiar. It was more raspy than her memory recalled, but combined with the long, red hair he had gathered in a ponytail, there was too much nostalgia for her to simply ignore. She couldn't quite place it - something about him was off enough that she couldn't piece it together - but she somehow knew him.

"Pssst!" came a reminder from Hancock nearby that she needed to act before she was spotted. She felt shaky, not certain if she really should kill the men in front of her. What if she really did know him from before the war?

"What was that?" one of the men asked, turning around. Abby mentally cursed as his eyes met hers.

"What the fuck?!" he called out, alerting the other two to her presence. The ghoul stared at her, his eyes widening. Unlike the other two, he kept his gun lowered.

".... Chickpea...?!" he asked, jolting Abby's memory.

She didn't have a chance to respond as one of the other men fired, the bullet grazing her right shoulder. She hissed, feeling herself being pulled back behind cover by Hancock.

"Wait...! Don't...!" she tried to choke out, but the others were already opening fire. She could hear yells from around the corner.

"Stop, stop! I know her!" the ghoul insisted, trying his best to be heard over the gunfire. Abby bit her lip, reaching out and grabbing hold of Hancock's coat, pulling as hard as she could.

"The hell are you doing?!" he growled.

"Stop...!" she tried yelling louder. Hancock studied the desperate expression on her face. He frowned, raising his voice.

"Piper! Back off!" he yelled, his volume carrying much better than Abby's had.

"Are you crazy?!" Piper asked.

"Just do it!" came the order again.

The sound of gunshots ceased as Piper backed away. Abby peered around the corner, the two human triggermen lying in pools of blood. It was too late for them. The ghoul was slumped with his back against a wall, blood gushing from his shoulder. Abby didn't even give anyone a chance to respond. She dropped her rifle, unshouldering her bag as she quickly made her way over to him.

"Shit shit shit....!" she hissed, digging through for stimpaks and bandages. She tugged at the formal jacket he was wearing, prompting him to remove it and the shirt underneath. The wound was nasty, but she had seen much worse by now.

"My God, Abby... how did you-? You haven't even aged a day...!" he sputtered. She didn't reply as she worked to stem the bleeding. His eyes were black, like Hancock's and Daisy's. She remembered the green color they once held. His hair was now thin, a good portion of it missing. It used to be thick and gorgeous. And his skin... it was almost funny, how she had once envied him for his complexion. It was something he got from their mother that Abby had never been blessed with. Now a rough, leathery texture could be found in its place. After patching him up, she sat back, staring at him for a moment as she quietly studied his new features. She then surprised him by removing her Silver Shroud hat, beating him with it.

"You good for nothing asshole!" she raised her voice. "What were you thinking - getting mixed up in a gang?! Do you know what Mom would think?!"

"Ow, hey, stop!" he protested, holding up a hand. "C'mon, Chickpea, I can explain...!"

"What - your 'debts'?! What the hell did you get yourself into!" she lectured, continuing to sling her hat at him. "You're smarter than this!"

"Uh.... Sunshine....?" Hancock spoke up from behind her, "You... maybe wanna introduce us to your friend there...?"

Abby's nostrils flared as she lowered her hat, still fuming. "This dickwad is Neal - my older brother," she answered.

"Your brother's a ghoul?" Piper asked.

"Unfortunately!" she snipped back. "I thought he was dead, but nope - that _obviously_  wouldn't have made Dad turn over in his grave quite as much!"

"Hey, don't you bring him into this!" Neal protested.

"This, this right here?! Is why you stopped getting invited to family get-togethers!" she continued.

"Hey - no fair, you know that had nothing to do with it!" he began to argue.

"Look, as touching as this little family reunion is, can we go get Nick before they melt him down for scrap parts?" Hancock interrupted.

Abby crossed her arms. "Fine," she quipped. "But we're _so_ not done with this," she warned Neal.

"Yeah, yeah..." he sighed, trying to get up.

"You good to walk?" Hancock asked him, offering a hand.

"Yeah, just don't ask me to lift anything for now," he grumbled, accepting the help. He pulled his jacket back on, placing his hands in his pockets.

Abby walked a little further ahead, almost as though she were on a war path. As they continued to push their way further into the vault, she seemed more aggressive with her shooting. Nobody dared say anything to her, almost afraid of incurring her wrath. She was still far from intimidating, but the vibe she gave off when angry was enough to not want to test her patience.

After clearing a few more hallways, they finally arrived in a small room with a staircase. Talking could be heard echoing throughout the metal walls, the voices belonging to someone at the top of the stairs.

"How you doin' in there, Valentine?" a man said in a mocking tone. "Feelin' hungry? Want a snack?"

"Keep talking, meat head," came the response. "It'll give Skinny Malone more time to think of how he's going to bump you off."

"Don't give me that crap, Valentine!" the man spat back. You know nothin', you got nothin'!"

"Really?" Nick asked. "I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. 'Lousy cheating card shark', I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times."

"Three strikes? In the black book?!" the man asked, sounding alarmed. "But I never... Oh no... I gotta smooth this over! Fast!"

Footsteps could be heard as the man ran down the stairs. Abby took the opportunity to wait around the corner, slamming him in the face with the butt of her rifle as he passed by.

"Remind me not piss her off," Hancock whispered to Piper.

"You and me both," she replied.

The group made their way up the stairs. At the top was a window that peered into a locked room. Inside, there was a man who appeared to be tied to a chair, arms bound behind him. It was hard to make out much detail given how scratched and dirty the glass had become, but a trenchcoat and hat could be seen.

"Hey, you!" the man called out at Abby. "I don't know who you are, but we got three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain't coming back. Get this door open!"

Abby looked over at the computer console that was attached to the door. She sighed, trying to figure out how to get it to unlock the entrance. She was never very good with computers, apart from using them to take notes. She started to type away, a bleeping sound warning her of a potential lockout.

"Uh... Blue?" Piper spoke up, handing her a slip of paper. "This was on the guy back there..." Abby took a look at the parchment, a series of numbers and letters written on it

"Seriously? He kept the password in his pocket?" she asked, shaking her head. "The Commonwealth sure has a shitty idea of security." She punched in the sequence, a click signaling that the lock had released.

Hancock made his way through the door first, approaching the chair and taking out his knife.

"Didn't expect to see you, John," Nick commented as Hancock cut the ropes.

"Yeah, well, I was just in the neighborhood and thought 'hey, storming a vault and shooting down mobsters sounds like a good way to pass the time'." he grinned.

Nick stood up as the ropes gave way. "Glad that's your idea of a fun time. I really wasn't looking forward to haunting this place."

Abby finally got a good look at Valentine, his appearance not at all what she had expected. He was little more than a metal skeleton with plastic skin stretched over places. If he had ever been designed to look human, time had certainly taken its toll. Piper's warnings about synths - particularly ones that looked just like this man - flooded Abby's mind. She began to back up, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion. She bumped right into Piper, who simply patted her on the shoulder.

"You okay, Blue?" she asked.

"I.... he's.... a synth....?" Abby stuttered.

"Oh yeah, we kind of did forget to mention that part," Hancock mused. "Sunshine, meet Nick Valentine: best detective in the Commonwealth - synth or otherwise."

"I know the skin and metal parts ain't comforting," Nick informed her, "But that's not really important right now. We need to blow this joint - then we'll talk."

"Seems like there's going to be a lot of talking when we get out," Abby sighed, rubbing her head. She wondered if Hancock had anything for migraines stashed in those pockets of his.

Nick glanced over at Neal, who was staying quiet out of fear of drawing more of his sister's wrath. "What's your deal? You're one of Malone's boys."

"It's a long story, but he's with us... I think," Hancock answered. "Let's just get out of here - we'll sort shit out when we're not having to run n'gun."

\---

Too much was occurring at once for Abby to wrap her head around it. A synth detective would have confused her to begin with, but the shock of finding her brother significantly overshadowed the experience. She was a mess of emotions, not certain really how to feel. Anger definitely rated up there, but it was mixed with relief and fear.

She had missed her brother quite a bit. He had ten years on her, making their relationship slightly different than most siblings when growing up. Instead of bickering and fighting, he was always the protective one. While their dad was off fighting wars, he was the one who took over the role as best he could. He was the one who had taught her how to fire a rifle. Her summers had been filled with escapades to the woods to shoot at tin cans and any other stationary object in the way. He had tried to bring her hunting with him once, but discovered what a bad idea that was when she started sobbing uncontrollably over the deer he had killed. Her soft spot for animals prompted Neal to give up hunting, saving his bullets only for cans and empty Nuka Cola bottles. He had made a promise to her that he would never again shoot a living creature - something she had held him to.

He had been sweet like that - never trying to change her, but simply accepting and adjusting accordingly. He had never told her that she had to be lady-like or that she couldn't do something because she was a too young or a girl. She was just Abby, his sister, and he never seemed to ask her to be anything otherwise. He was hot-headed towards kids who made fun of her - always the big intimidating brother who would tell them where to shove it. Nobody messed with her when he was around. As far as she was concerned, he was her best friend. Of course, he had friends of his own age who would come around. None of them really seemed to mind her tagging along. The one time anyone gave him grief over it, he had punched them out. She got the impression that violence wasn't a stranger to him, but that detail never mattered to her. What did matter was that he loved and protected her when nobody else would.

But then things changed. Their dad had wanted him to follow in his footsteps - go to a military academy and make his family proud. Neal had other ambitions. He was fond of cooking and wanted to enroll in a culinary arts school. Abby vaguely remembered the night that yelling could be heard from the kitchen. Their father had said that it was all their mother's fault - making Neal soft by filling his head with ideas that were best left to his sister. Abby had never heard her father sound so angry in her life, and she never would again. After that night, Neal disappeared, not returning until years later, during their father's funeral.

He had been trying to start up his own diner in Salem, but eventually the family fell on hard times. If it had just been him, perhaps he could have made it work, but years after the passing of their father, their mother took a turn for the worse. The cancer diagnosis left her not only alone while Abby was in law school, but suffering without anyone to look after her. Neal closed up shop, moving their mother in with him and taking up a construction job to cover the medical bills. Abby felt guilty that he was putting his dreams on the back burner while she got to go and accomplish hers. When she expressed her concerns to him, he would simply smile and tell her that she had far more ambition than he ever had - that she deserved to accomplish her goals.

While she had initially pursued a law degree to help prosecute animal cruelty cases, she began to secretly hope that she could turn a profit with it - maybe help Neal re-open his diner and give him a chance to continue doing what he loved. She never had the opportunity, however. The bombs had dropped before she even had a chance to make any use of her degree. She had mourned, yet accepted the inevitability that her mother and brother had perished. Now she wasn't so certain if she was happy over the idea of him still being alive. It wasn't so much that he was a ghoul - she was coming to accept that being one wasn't the worst fate in the Commonwealth. It was the fact that he was now no better than a common thug - working for people who made it their business to hurt others who were just trying to get by. It felt like a needle in her heart when she thought about it - about how she almost killed him because of what he had become. At least when she had thought him to be dead, she had good memories of a selfless brother to fall back on. Now all she could think of were the times she had seen the fear in his friends' eyes - the bloodied nose of the guy who had harassed her. The terror in the reactions of the kids who mocked her. Was this truly what he had been all along?

She couldn't help but ponder the notion that, if she were a little colder and emotionally stronger, she would turn around and put a bullet in his head for their mother's sake. But instead, she felt fear tugging at her heart over the fact he was injured. Damn him for making her feel this way.

The door in front of them opened after Nick tampered with the lock.

"There we are!" he declared. "Hell of a lot easier to do when the lock isn't on the other side."

Nick seemed to be nice, and certainly had a good sense of humor, but it was hard for Abby to smile right now with all the internal turmoil she carried with her. On the other side of the door, a large man waited on them. Two triggermen were at his side, along with a woman who wore a sour expression. Fahrenheit's glare always made Abby feel as though she had done something wrong. This woman's look, however, just made her want to punch her in the face.

"Nicky?! What're you doin'?!" the man shouted. "You come into my house, shoot up my guys? You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?!"

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny," Nick replied. "You ought to tell her to write home more often."

"Awww... poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl?!" the woman sneered. "I'll just run back home to daddy, shall I?" Abby _really_ wanted to hit her.

"Should have left it alone, Nicky," Skinny continued. "This ain't the old neighborhood. Draggin' Hancock into this ain't gonna do you no good. In this Vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me?! And I ain't lettin' some private dick and a washed up mayor shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin'!"

"You sure do like to run your mouth," Hancock quipped.

The woman sneered, looking over at Skinny. "I told you we should've just killed Valentine, but then you had to get all sentimental!" she scolded, her voice high pitched enough to further aggravate Abby's headache. "All that stupid crap about the 'old times'!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Abby finally snapped, her patience having been depleted by this point. The woman's mouth hung agape at the outburst.

"Did you hear that?! You gonna let her talk to me that way!" she shrieked at her boyfriend.

"Darla, I'm handling this!" Skinny snapped back. "Skinny Malone's always got things under control!"

"Clearly. I mean, all the corpses and bullet-holes just scream 'perfectly fine and in control," Hancock grinned.

Skinny's nostrils flared angrily. He raised his gun, aiming it toward Hancock. Abby felt her chest tighten in panic. She quickly stepped between the two, making it clear that he would have to shoot through her to get to him. She didn't expect that would necessarily stop him from doing just that, but she wasn't going to stand idly by and let him hurt anybody as long as she had a say in it.

"Whoa - whoa, chill out!" Neal shouted from the doorway. "Look at yourself, Skinny! Darla's been playing you for a sap! We wouldn't even have this problem if she hadn't gone dragging Valentine in here. You're throwing away everything you worked for, and for what? A dame who don't even respect ya? You're better than this - better than her!"

Skinny lowered the gun, frowning. "You're right. Things have gone nothin' but south since she walked into my life."

"What are you talkin' about, Skinny?!" Darla asked, looking shocked.

"I'm sayin' you're draggin' me and this whole operation down a bad road, toots," he grumbled. "We're through."

Darla mouthed a few silent words, losing her voice for a moment before she re-gained her bearings. "W-well fine then!" she shouted. "I'm going back home! I don't need you, you... fat ass!"

She huffed as she walked away, fuming at what had occurred. Skinny winced at the insult, shaking his head.

"They always gotta hit you where it hurts..." he sighed. "Now... what am I gonna do about you guys?"

"Uh... let us walk out of here and forget any of this ever happened?" Piper spoke up. Skinny didn't seem amused by the suggestion.

"I know - how about I give you to the count of ten? If I still see your ugly faces after that, I'm gonna start shootin' until there ain't no more bullets left in this whole vault!"

"Uh... does this mean I can turn in my resignation...?" Neal asked.

"I dunno what you're doin' with these losers, but if I ever see you cross my path again, I'll put a bullet in ya, got it?!" Skinny replied angrily. Neal smiled a little, seeming pleased with the arrangement. "One...." Skinny began to count.

"C'mon, we better get out of here - fast!" Nick ordered, grabbing hold of Abby's wrist and dragging her along. She quickened her pace to keep up, hoping he knew where he was going. He led the group to a small door, quickly picking the lock. A ladder at the end of the hall led to an escape hatch at the top. He gestured everyone to climb up. After the last person was safely at the top, he began to climb. One he reached the surface, he closed the hatch, turning and looking above him.

"Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky," he mused. "Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting..."

"It's definitely better than being in a vault," Abby agreed wearily.

"Thanks for getting me out, by the way," Nick smiled, "But how did you guys know where to find me? Not many people knew where I went...."

"Ellie, told us," Piper answered.

"She did?" Valentine hummed. "I should give her a raise..."

"We actually tracked her down because we're needing your help," Abby explained. "My baby's been kidnapped and the details are.... complicated."

"Somehow 'nice and simple' never makes it onto the menu in my world," he replied in an amused tone. "C'mon, let's head back to my office. You can give me all the details there."

"Um... just one slight problem?" she pointed out, "My brother's hurt and I _might_ have already used the whole 'my brother is a ghoul, please help him' sob-story approach..."

"Well..." Nick hummed, "Goodneighbor isn't too far from here. How about you take him there and meet me back in Diamond City?"

"I guess that works," Abby sighed. She didn't like delaying the search for Shaun even more - especially now that there was someone who might actually be capable of helping her find him - but she couldn't just ignore Neal's injuries.

"Yeah... as much as I'd love to go to a stunning place like Goodneighbor, I think I'm going to go with Nick, if that's okay," Piper decided.

"Sure, go ahead," Abby replied. "We'll meet you there."

The group began to part ways. Hancock walked alongside Abby as they escorted Neal back to Goodneighbor. Awkward silence filled the trip, Abby still fuming from everything that had occurred. She quietly went over details in her head, trying to decide what she was going to do with Neal. She still cared about him - he was her big brother, after all, but she was so angry. Hancock's hand brushed against hers as he walked a little closer. She looked over at him, a small smile greeting her, informing her that it hadn't been an accident. Perhaps it was his way of reminding her that he was there if she needed to vent. Now wasn't the time for her to do so, but it did distract her mind. She returned the smile, relaxing a little. One thing was certain - there was going to be one hell of a discussion when they got to Goodneighbor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thankyou once again for your lovely comments/kudos/ect! You guys are so sweet, you really make my day a little brighter! In case you're curious, you can see concept art of Neal, drawn by the talented Vectober, [here](http://vectober.tumblr.com/post/136994347611)!)


	15. Conflicting Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Skizoh](http://skizoh.tumblr.com)]

Abby plopped down on the hotel bed, feeling exhausted. The day had finally taken its toll on her. She had built up so much anger inside herself, it was emotionally exhausting. Being around too many people didn't help her energy levels, either. Hancock had offered to let her stay at the Old Statehouse, but she just wanted a place where she could close the door and be alone with her thoughts. Now that she was surrounded by the silence she so desperately craved, she found herself wishing Hancock was there. She sighed, pulling a pillow over her face and using it to muffle the scream of frustration she let out.

A knock on her door surprised her, causing her to jump. She tossed the pillow to the side, getting up and answering. Hancock stood in the hallway, a small box in his hand.

"Hey... I know you wanted some 'you' time, but Daisy wanted me to drop this off," he told her, handing the box over. The inside was filled with tarberries. Abby cracked a smile, shaking her head.

"Good ol' Daisy," she murmured, gesturing for Hancock to come in. She set the box on the dresser, settling down on the edge of the bed.

"How're you holdin' up?" he asked, sitting down in a chair across from her.

"I've been better," she admitted. "I don't know if I wanna hug Neal or kill him."

"Well, if you ever decide on the latter, I've got plenty of resources around here," he teased. She sighed, rubbing at the corners of her eyes.

"I know you're probably joking, but right now....." she shook her head. "Sorry - I'm just... not very fun at the moment."

"You've had a rough day, sister," he replied sympathetically. "Anything I can get for ya? Maybe we could go down to the Third Rail - see if Charlie can make one of those tarberry drinks you like so much?"

Abby snorted a quiet laugh. "It's sweet of you to offer, but the last thing I want right now is to be around more people."

"Ah, well..." he smiled, moving to stand up.

"Hey, where're you going?" she asked, tone downtrodden.

"You.... said you didn't wanna be around people?" Hancock replied in confusion. Abby shook her head.

"You're not people - you're a person," she clarified. "And... I want you to stay. I mean, if you want to, that is..."

He quietly looked at her, as though he were contemplating something. He finally nodded, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. "Whatever you want, Sunshine."

The feeling in her chest returned - the sensation that her heart was flipping upside down. That day had been shit so far. She quietly pondered whether she should just say what was on her mind. Would it change anything? Part of her was terrified that she was somehow being unfaithful to Nate by even having these emotions. She knew that was untrue - that he would simply want her to be happy. The fact that she never had received proper time to mourn his loss didn't help things, however.

"Hancock..." she murmured, "I... was wondering....?"

"Hmmmm?" he hummed, removing a tin of Mentats from his pocket. She chewed at her bottom lip, making a face.

"Can you put that way?" she asked. "I'm... being serious and want you to hear me without that junk..."

Hancock hesitated, running his thumb along the lid of the tin. He then nodded, pocketing it. He didn't look pleased at the request, but he didn't argue.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"Y-yeah...." she stuttered, losing her nerve the moment she realized what she was about to say. "I.... I just... wanted to know... where you and I stood...?"

Hancock stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You know, when I first saw you, I didn't think you stood a chance," he confessed. "Most people who stumble out of those vaults? Are busy pickin' their teeth out of the gutter before they even get past their first week."

"Hancock, I-" she tried to interrupt. He held up his hand, shaking his head.

"No, lemme talk," he insisted. "If you're gonna ask me to hold off on the chems, you're gonna listen to what I have to say before talkin'." Abby felt a tightening in her chest from the lecture, but nodded quietly, letting him continue. "It's rare these days to find someone who's not just willing to take things the way they're handed to them. You were scared as shit when you came here - couldn't even look at ol' Daisy. And then your talk of wanting to go to Diamond City? I thought 'Great! Another blank slate ready for McDonagh's anti-ghoul brainwashing'. Figured after you left, if I ever saw you again it'd probably be from the other end of a barrel - that you'd let fear get the best of you and just see all us ghouls as one and the same."

She spun her wedding band around her finger, fidgeting with it nervously as she tried to keep herself from crying. The idea that he thought so little of her hurt.

"But then," he continued, "you went and helped someone like Kenny-boy. Didn't ask for nothin' in return - just did it 'cause it felt right. And then, when you were standin' there in front of Sinjin? He threatened Goodneighor. I couldn't see you from where I was crouched, but your voice... there was so much fear and anger in it - you were begging him to shoot you and leave my people out of it."

Abby looked up from her hands in surprise, eyes meeting Hancock's. A tear managed to escape, rolling down her cheek. She nearly lost her breath as he smiled, reaching over and wiping the tear away.

"You're soft, Sunshine, but that's not a bad thing," he noted. "Everyone's entitled to some softness. I mean, for me? It's pretty much everything below the eyebrows, but still..."

She choked out a small laugh, sniffling and rubbing at her eyes. Hancock placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I know I run my mouth," he continued, "but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it? It's meant a lot to me, and I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend."

Her heart jumped at the words, a mixture of happiness and despair. Being a friend wasn't bad - in fact, it overjoyed her to hear him call her that. But then there was the meaning attached to that label...

"And that's all we are...?" she asked softly, "... friends?"

Hancock didn't reply right away. The silence felt like it was strangling Abby as she waited, holding her breath. How was he going to respond? Did she just destroy even the possibility of friendship by her question? A million scenarios flooded her mind of how this would play out - none of them positive.

"Well..." he finally spoke up, letting his fingers slide from her shoulder down to her hand.  A coy smirk formed across his face as he rubbed his thumb along her palm.  "Now that you mention it, I have been having.... slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we'll get to... act on those?  Heh."

It wasn't what she had feared, but it wasn't exactly what she had wanted, either. All this time, her question had been of romance - whether or not he could ever care for her in that measure. But all he could say to combat her fear was what? Implications of sex? It's not as though she hadn't already conjured up impure thoughts of her own, but she would have had a much easier time at expressing her feelings if that had been the only thing she had sought after. She pulled her hand away from his.

"So... what - have me be like one of those people that you keep draped around you at the Third Rail?" she asked. The response seemed to catch Hancock off-guard as he shifted uncomfortably.

"That's not what I-" he started to explain, but a knock at the door cut him short. Both of them stared pins and needles at the entrance, Abby making the first move to get up. She opened the door, finding herself face-to-face with Neal. He couldn't have picked a worse moment to stop by.

"Neal." she stated coldly.

"Um... hey...." he greeted her wearily. "The doc said I'll be fine, but... I was wondering if you wanted to talk now....?"

"Not really, no," she quipped irritably. He looked past her, noticing Hancock sitting on the bed.

"Oh... um.... I see you have company....?" he murmured in an embarrassed tone. She shrugged.

"Not anymore. Feel free to come in - I've got better things to do," she snipped, pushing past him and disappearing down the hallway. She could feel tears stinging her eyes as she held them back. She at least waited until she turned the corner before letting them out. She felt so stupid. Why did she think Hancock would want something more meaningful with her? If he had wanted that kind of relationship, he probably would have already had it. She should have figured as much before, but now? She wondered if she had killed any chance of even being friends with him.

She was so busy rushing ahead, tears obstructing her view, that she didn't see the man exiting his room in front of her. She ran right into him, stumbling backward.

"S-sorry...!" she stuttered, not able to stop herself from crying. She blinked, clearing her vision enough to see a ghoul towering over her. He wore an old trench-coat and hat - both of which seemed eerily familiar.

"You....!" the ghoul gasped as he looked at her.

"Holy shit..." she choked out. The face was unfamiliar, having been twisted by time and radiation, but she knew instantly who it belonged to. It was the man who had visited her shortly before her world fell apart - the Vault Tec representative.

  
\---

Neal knew he had fucked up badly. He was aware that his family would have hated him for the person he had become, but it wasn't as though they were still alive anyway - or so he had thought. After the bombs fell, he found himself and his mother trapped in bodies that resembled something from a horror movie. The flesh began to melt away, hair falling out and thinning, even their noses fell apart. He couldn't stand to look in the mirror anymore and knew his mother felt the same when she averted her gaze. In spite of the hideous transformation, he first thought that perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. His mother's health seemed to improve. Did the cancer no longer effect her? It was hard to tell - most people around them had perished, the buildings flattened. It wasn't as though they could simply drive down to the doctor's office and have tests run. But she appeared more energetic and no longer complained about chronic pain.  Even if she was unsightly, who cared? It was his mother and she was alive and healthy - or as healthy as one could be after so much exposure to radiation.

But things only could improve for so long. Soon, she stopped eating, spending her time in the basement - one of the few places around them that had avoided damage for the most part. She became engulfed in the family photos that had been stored there. While Neal tried to coax her away, she refused to leave.  Living in the past was all she cared about. It took all his effort to convince her to at least eat, and he was quite certain she no longer slept.

He couldn't stay by her side forever. Eventually they depleted their rations. He left in search of food. By the time he returned, she had vanished. He searched everywhere, but no trace could be found. He ran into numerous packs of ferals, leaving him to wonder if her fate had been the same. He dreaded the idea that he, too, could become like one of those monsters.

He didn't dwell on the loss for too long - he couldn't if he wanted to survive. He set off in search of any sign of civilization. What he found were raiders and people who saw him as nothing more than an abomination. He knew he had promised Abby that he would never turn his gun on another living being again, but she was long gone to his knowledge. Why would the dead care of a promise from ages ago? He took up jobs as a mercenary, killing anyone and anything just to make caps. At first he tried to stick to his moral high-ground. He wouldn't kill innocents - he was only interested in ridding the world of the scum within the Commonwealth. After being double-crossed more than a few times by his employers, however, he started to take what he could get. Some of the worst people he knew at least were honest about giving him his share of the caps. The more he ran with their kind, the less he began to care about anyone else.

Getting himself involved in gambling created an even deeper hole for him to climb out of. The type of people he played games with were not ones who forgave a person for being broke. In order to escape his debts, he took up Skinny Malone on his offer for employment. Malone would pay off everything Neal owed in exchange for his loyalty. It seemed like a no-brainer to him. He didn't like Malone, but how was working for him any different from the mercenary work he already did?

But now he found himself re-examining the past two hundred years. It was strange, thinking about how much time had passed. He had even forgotten what Abby looked like until he had seen her in Vault 114.  The encounter sparked memories that had been discarded centuries ago. She hadn't changed one bit. She still looked and acted the same - and was still as scary as their mother when she got angry. He hadn't found out yet what had happened, but it was clear Abby hadn't spent the past two hundred years in the Commonwealth. If she had, not only was she well preserved physically, she had also managed to remain unfazed by the cruelty that surrounded the world.

She was pissed as hell with him, but what could he do if she refused to even let him speak? Although now he seemed to have an outlet for his own anger - the man who was sitting on his sister's bed in her hotel room. He knew very well who Hancock was. He had spent enough time in Goodneighbor. Everyone either loved him or feared him. Only an idiot would mouth off to him, but Neal didn't particularly give a fuck as to whether or not such an action was considered suicidal.

"So, _Mayor_ ," he greeted coldly, "Care to explain what's going on between the two of you?"

Hancock still had a baffled expression on his face. He didn't reply, getting up and attempting to rush out the door. Neal blocked him, boldly staring him down.

"Look, kid, as much as I'd love to have a heart-felt discussion about your sister, I _kinda_ need to talk with her first..."

"I'm _much_ older than you, _kid_ ," Neal retorted, venom dripping in his voice. "I asked you a question - what were you doing with my sister?!"

Hancock tried to push past, but didn't put near enough muscle behind it. Neal almost expected him to pull out a knife, but he didn't. Had the bastard gone soft?

"C'mon, brother, give me a break!" Hancock pleaded. Neal crossed his arms.

"I know she's mad at me, but she was fuming before she even answered that door," he pointed out. "I'm not budging an inch until you tell me what's going on."

Hancock sighed. "It's just a misunderstanding, okay? One I'd kinda like to get sorted out before she has time to dwell too much on it?"

"A misunderstanding, huh?" Neal snorted. "You know I broke the nose of the first guy who had a 'misunderstanding' with her. Thought the word 'no' meant the opposite?"

"Lucky for me, I don't have a nose," Hancock quipped. "But it ain't like that - it's.... a long story."

"I've got time," he pointed out. Hancock took a step back, sighing as he motioned for Neal to come inside. Neal took a few steps in, closing the door behind him and waiting for Hancock to get settled in a chair first. After ensuring the mayor wasn't going to try and dart past him, he sat down on the corner of the nearby bed.

"Look, nothin' went on between me and Abby," Hancock explained. "Not that I didn't want it to, but... it's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," Neal insisted, irritably. Hancock twitched.

"You're really pushin' it, brother," he snarled. "If you didn't mean something to her, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Neal continued to stare Hancock down.  He had always been stubborn - knowing that Hancock wouldn't lay a finger on him if he was trying to get on Abby's good side certainly didn't cure that stubbornness.  

"She asked me about bein' more than just friends," Hancock begrudgingly told him.  "It caught me off-guard is all - I didn't think she could ever see me that way. I mean - look at me? She's terrified enough of our kind, but now she's talking like she might be interested? I didn't know how to respond..."

"So you didn't respond?" Neal asked. Hancock shook his head.

"Beginning to think that would have been the better option," he sighed. "I put my foot in my mouth - said somethin' about having 'impure thoughts' and acting on 'em. She took it about as well as you can imagine."

Neal kept his ice-cold expression. "And is that all you think of her?" he asked.

"Fuck no!" Hancock blurted out. "Being around her, it's... it's like for the first time in my life, things have felt... right. Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't object if she wanted to be a little more.... _intimate_ , but that's not what really matters. I got people around here who'll show me a good time any day of the week. But Abby...? It's different being around her. I dunno how to explain it..."

Neal shook his head, letting out a laugh. "Great. The Mayor of Goodneighbor has fallen for my sister. Never woulda guessed that'd happen when I woke up yesterday."

Hancock smiled a little. "Hey, I'm just as surprised as you. I don't really know if she feels the same - I didn't exactly get much out of her before she took off. But... well, I wouldn't wish this face on anyone I cared about. If she's not interested, I'll back off, ya feel me?"

"I feel ya," Neal replied. "To be fair, I don't think you need to be worried about that. I've only seen her look at three other people the way she looks at you, and she ended up marrying one of 'em."

"Yeah, but I bet they didn't look like jerky," Hancock pointed out.

"Well, no, but you'd be kidding yourself if you assumed for a minute that she only cared about their looks." Neal explained.

"Guess that's re-assuring..." Hancock mused.

"Plus, did you even notice how she worked her way between you and Skinny back there?" he asked.  Hancock cringed.

"Yeah... I've.... been thinking a lot about that, actually..." he admitted.  "I can't say I like the idea of her being so eager to take a bullet for my worthless ass."

"Well, clearly she doesn't think your ass is that worthless," Neal pointed out.  "But seriously - if you ever hurt her, I don't care if I have to run from all of Goodneighbor the rest of my days - I'll gut you in your sleep."

"And I'd probably let ya," Hancock retorted with a laugh.   Neal started to relax.  Hancock really wasn't that bad of a guy.  Not exactly who he would have pictured Abby with, but he had run into far worse scum in the Commonwealth.

"Just a word of caution?" Neal warned.  "Chickpea's _really_ bad about holding a grudge. If I were you, I wouldn't piss her off until she cools down from what you said."

"Yeah, I figured that would probably be the case," Hancock sighed, scratching behind his head. "Can we at least go find her now?"

"Actually, maybe you should stay here," Neal considered. "I'll talk to her. I need to do that anyway."

Hancock rubbed his hands together in a fidgety motion, but nodded. "Do what you gotta."

Neal got up, leaving the room. He made his way down the hallway, turning the corner. In front of him was Abby, hugging a ghoul.

"... friend of yours...?" Neal asked. Abby spun around, face turning red. Her smile faded as she glared at him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact - he was the representative from Vault Tec that signed us up for Vault 111." Huh. Neal hadn't realized Abby and Nate had signed up for one of those vaults. That possibly explained her lack of aging.

"It's just so good to see a friendly face again!" the representative exclaimed happily. "She said I can go back to Sanctuary - get out of Goodneighbor and go work there!"

"Yeah, great...." Neal replied, forcing a smile. "Um... Chickpea... can we talk for a moment? In private...?"

Abby still didn't look happy with her brother, but nodded. "I'll probably have to leave for Diamond City in the morning," she told the Vault Tech representative, "but I promise I'll come back and help you get to Sanctuary, okay? It's kind of dangerous to travel there by yourself, after all."

"I'll hold you to it!" the man grinned. "Time to go pack!"

He vanished into his room, leaving Abby alone in the hallway with Neal.

"Mind taking a walk?" he asked.

"Fine, sure, whatever," she muttered, following along.

\---

Goodneighbor had a rather active night life compared to Diamond City. Normally Abby wouldn't have minded, but right now being around a crowd wasn't her cup of tea. Neal seemed to figure this out, leading her away from most of the town's noise. There was a spot he showed her where they could climb up and sit on one of the roofs. Abby had never seen Goodneighbor from such a high vantage point before. The closest she had gotten was through the window of the Old State House, but it paled compared to where she was now. The lights scattered across the streets looked like fireflies. Neon signs also reflected off of rain puddles, giving her an oddly comfortable feeling that overshadowed how dreary the town could be.

"Been here before?" she wondered.

"For awhile," he replied, settling down on the rooftop. "I lived here for the longest time, until Malone got sick of the place. He didn't like having to go through Hancock to get anything done around here."

"Yeah, well, guess I can understand that," she sighed, pulling her knees up under her chin.  Thinking of Hancock just made her feel like crying again.

"Back there... at the vault? You said something about your baby being kidnapped?" he wondered.  "You talking about the same nephew I remember?"

"Yeah, Shaun," she replied softly. "Some bastard broke into our vault... kidnapped him and killed Nate. We were in cryogen storage for the past two hundred years," she explained. "I just.... I woke up and lost everything in one instant."

Neal reached over, placing his arm around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry," he told her.

"Not like you could have done anything - you probably didn't even know we were alive," she muttered.

"No, not just for that - for everything," he continued. "I... lost Mom and just gave up on everything. Decided to survive rather than live. It's... really all I've been doin' for who knows how long?"

"Do you regret it?" she asked.

"I never gave myself a chance to," he admitted. "I stopped thinking about it - stopped caring. It's easier to head out there and gun down shit when you know you've got nothin' left to lose."

"... and now?" she wondered.

"Well... I guess I've got you now, huh, Chickpea?" he smiled a little. Abby sniffled, wiping at her eyes. "Hey, hey - I didn't mean to make you cry - what'd I say?" he asked, worried.

"Nothing... I just... I missed you," she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I miss Mom... Nate... I just... I think I just wanna go home. Give up on finding Shaun. It's like finding a needle in a haystack anyway, right...?"

Neal frowned, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief.  He passed it over to her. "What's left for you at home?"

"Well... Codsworth... and the Minute Men... they're re-building my old neighborhood - turning it into a place for people to escape to," she explained. "I helped for awhile... maybe it'd be more worthwhile for me to just go back and continue." She blew her nose into the kerchief, folding it up to wash later. "You could come with? Sturges was working on building a bar when I left - maybe we could set things up to make it something even bigger? Let you finally have your restaurant."

Neal chuckled, hugging her. "You know, after two hundred years I almost forgot about that."

"Yeah, I guess cooking isn't really the same out here," she mused.

"Well, not _too_  bad," he rebutted. "You'd be amazed at what I can do with mole rats."

Abby twitched. "Yeeaahh... if I wasn't a vegetarian before, this place would definitely do the trick," she gagged.

"Hey - hard to be picky out here," he lectured. "It's kind of survival of who eats who first."

"I know," she sighed. "Trust me, I had to live on bloatfly for a month. And I don't even wanna know what they fed me when I was bedridden..."

"You were what?" he asked, frowning in concern.

"It's... nothing, really," she told him. "I just got beat up pretty bad when I first came here. Hancock... honestly saved my life, I guess."

"You really care about him, don't ya?" he wondered. Abby buried her face against her knees.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "I thought I did... but..."

"And you still do, but you're conflicted?" he poked at her. She looked up at him, eyes puffy as tears returned.

"I thought maybe he liked me... like, in the romantic sense?" she blushed.

"And he said he didn't?" Neal questioned. Abby kept her head ducked down low.

"Well... no... but the first thing he could even think of was just getting me into bed."

"And the concept of having sex with a ghoul squicks you out?" he inquired. Abby shot him a dirty look.

"No! I mean... it's not exactly something I really considered," she admitted. "I mean... have you ever fallen so hard for someone that the more you're around them, the more attractive they become? Like... not even what initially drove you to liking them in the first place, but... just the little things here and there? Where anything that even remotely reminds you of them suddenly seems beautiful?"

Neal shook his head. "Can't say I've ever felt that way about anyone. I guess that's kinda sad, huh?" he mused. "Two hundred and what? Thirty? Thirty five years? And never had feelings quite that strong."

"Well... I don't know how else to explain it," she sighed, hugging her knees closer to her chest. "But no, I'm not opposed to _that_... I don't really care that he's a ghoul. But I'm not even sure if I'm ready for something quite that intimate. Not yet, anyway... I don't even know if I'm ready for something lighthearted, but it's all I can fucking think about anymore."

"So, your problem was that he automatically assumed you wanted something more physical when you're talking more emotional?" he asked.

"I... guess..." she shrugged. "I'm not even sure anymore. I just... I wanna hug him. Hold his hand... you know... cheesy romance shit."

"God you're adorable, Chickpea," Neal teased. Abby furrowed her brow, elbowing him in the side. "Ow!"

"I'm being serious!" she sulked. He rubbed his side where her elbow had landed.

"As am I!" he replied. "Look - I talked to him already. He's kicking himself over what he said. Apparently he's so head over heels for you, he panicked. You're just as bad about blurting the first thing that comes to your mind when you're under pressure!"

Abby stared at him, her expression softening. "He is....?" she asked, ignoring the rest of what was said.

"Is what?"

"Head over heels for me?" she re-iterated.

"Well," Neal smiled, "Yeah. Mind you, I've only talked to the guy on a couple of occasions, but... he seems genuine.  Call it a big brother's intuition."

"Then... why didn't he ever say anything to me before?" she wondered.

"Because he didn't think the feeling was mutual. Thinks you'd be scared to even look at him - let alone have something to do with him."

Abby cringed, feeling guilty. It was true that she still got frightened when even a non-feral caught her off-guard, but she hadn't realized just how much of her fear Hancock had taken to heart.

"So what should I do about it?" she asked. "I mean... I care about him... I really do..."

"But?"

".... but I'm afraid that if I start something now, I'm going to let it consume me. You remember what happened when Nate and I started dating. I almost dropped out of school - I was so fucking infatuated..."

Neal laughed. "Yeah, I remember. I thought Mom was going to run all the way from Salem to your dorm to kill you with her own two hands."

"Don't remind me," Abby sighed. "But what if... what if I really do just give up on everything... just like that?"

"Well... does he seem like the type of person who's just going to let you give up on stuff?" he questioned. Abby thought about it. Hancock had been pretty clear on his motives - he wanted them to make the Commonwealth a better place. Finding Shaun was important, but if they could lend a hand to those in need along the way? Well, that was certainly worth a shot. She couldn't picture him just settling down in one spot and being happy like that. Hadn't he left Goodneighbor because he was getting too comfortable?

"Maybe..." she murmured, still uncertain. Neal hugged her again.

"Then just think on it," he told her. "Tell him you need some time. If he really cares about ya, he'll understand."

"I hope so...." she sighed. She stayed leaning against Neal for the longest time, just soaking up the silence. She had truly missed being around him. It seemed so strange to her, that the person she was next to was the same brother she had grown up with. He had changed so much, though his old self was showing through a little more now. She had a difficult time imagining how much two hundred years could change a person. Just the idea of how different she was five years ago seemed to blow her mind. She didn't want him returning to the life he had been living, though. If she could bring more of his old self back - even just a little bit - maybe things could at least start to resemble a normal life someday.

"Neal...?" she asked.

"Yeah, Chickpea?"

"Could you... would you maybe consider escorting the Vault Tech rep back to Sanctuary?" she wondered. "I mean... I'd hate for him to travel alone, and if you still know the way... well, it'd be nice if you could at least let the Minutemen know that I'm still alive and plan to return when I can..."

Neal smiled, kissing the top of her head. "Okay, but you owe me a restaurant when I get there," he teased. Abby smiled quietly.

"I love you, you big dork," she murmured.

"I love you, too, Chickpea."

\---

Abby quietly slipped into the hotel room, wondering if Hancock was still there. The door was unlocked and the lamp was still on. She found him pacing back and forth, cigarette in hand. She didn't see any chem containers lying around, making her wonder if he had abstained from it simply because of her previous request. She felt all the more guilty, knowing that he probably needed the Jet to calm down after what had occurred. As soon as she closed the door, he stopped in his tracks, looking over at her.

"Hancock..." she murmured. He didn't give her a chance to say more. He put his cigarette out in the ashtray that sat on the nearby coffee table.

"Sunshine, look, I'm sorry - I didn't even think about-"

She held up a hand, shaking her head. "Not now," she told him. Her heart almost broke at the expression he gave her. It reminded her of a kicked puppy. "I'm really tired," she explained. "Neal's heading to Sanctuary in the morning. I need to get back to Diamond City first thing as well."

Hancock nodded quietly. He fidgeted with the buttonholes in his coat, looking uncertain as to what else to do. Abby sat down on the bed, pulling her boots off.

"I... guess I'll let you get some sleep, then," he told her in a quiet tone. As he passed the bed on his way to the door, she reached out and caught his hand, beckoning him to come closer.

"I didn't say you had to leave," she told him. She kept her expression neutral, still dealing with the conflicting emotions. Hancock didn't move any further, silently scanning her face, as though he were trying to figure out exactly what she was thinking and how to best react.

"And what do ya want me to do?" he wondered. She continued holding onto his hand, giving it a small squeeze.

"... stay here with me?" she finally decided. Hancock shuffled a breath before nodding wordlessly. He sat down next to her, letting her keep her grip on his hand. "John..." she spoke up. The name sounded odd to her, but it was his first name, right? Nick had called him that quite a few times, so she knew it wasn't exactly off-limits to use. "I'm sorry I got upset. I just... there was a part of me that hoped we could be more than just friends. Not in the way you're friends with the people you hang with at the Third Rail, either, but... I don't know..."

"You really sure you wanna see this ugly mug every day?" he asked. Abby shook her head.

"Your appearance has nothing to do with it," she told him. "I like you for who you are, not what you look like."

Hancock scratched the back of his neck. "Can't say that's any improvement," he mused.

"I just... if you're interested, that is... I just wanna take things slow," she murmured. "Nate... meant a lot to me, and I still need to find Shaun. I don't really know what's going to happen out there, but... I just know there's no one else I'd rather have watching my back."

Hancock smirked. "Well, there's no one's back I'd rather watch," he quipped without thinking. He cleared his throat as he realized how she might not appreciate the remark. Fortunately, Abby began to laugh. She leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. The experience was rather strange compared to kissing a smoothskin. The texture reminded her of leather, but a touch softer. Hancock seemed to be caught off-guard by the kiss, looking stunned for a moment before glomping her into a hug and showering kisses across her cheeks and forehead. She giggled at the sensation. She couldn't say it was any better or worse than being kissed by someone with lips. It was simply... different. Not necessarily in a bad way. There was no real comparison, but she would have it no other way. She wasn't looking for a replacement for Nate, after all. She had loved him for her own reasons and now she felt strong emotions toward Hancock for entirely different reasons. It seemed almost fitting to her, really.

She reached over for the lamp, switching it off. She stretched out on the bed, getting comfortable. Hancock laid down next to her, pulling her against him.

"Is this... okay...?" he asked, sounding uncertain. She shifted, resting her head against his chest.

"Yeah," she murmured back. "It's perfect."

She wasn't exactly sure what the next day would bring - let alone the next several months - but she knew one thing was for certain: there was nobody else she would rather go through hell with than the ghoul who was there by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Thankyou so much for all the amazing feedback! You guys really help motivate me to keep this going! I hope you're enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it! Abby's journey is far from over, but I hope you all stick around for the rest of it! Thankyou again - you are all so lovely!))


	16. The Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Skizoh](http://skizoh.tumblr.com)]

Abby tried to keep her nerves calm as she answered Nick's questions. She was back at his office, sitting in a chair across from his desk while she told him him everything she could think of that could be of use for finding Shaun. Recalling details of what had occurred in Vault 111 was unnerving at best. She had been trying not to seem too distraught over having to remember, but her effort must have failed miserably since Hancock had just pulled a chair up next to her to sit down.

He reached over quietly, resting his hand on top of hers. Nick didn't say anything about the display of affection, but Abby noticed the shift in his attention toward Hancock. She felt slightly embarrassed being so snugly in front of other people, but she couldn't necessarily object. Hancock was already proving to be a very touch-oriented person, not missing any opportunity to hold her hand or even just be close. It was sweet and rather unexpected - certainly nothing she would want to discourage. She did silently wonder how sensitive a ghoul's nerves might be given the lack of skin. Had he been this affectionate even before he had turned into a ghoul?

"You were on ice, huh?" Nick hummed, getting back to business. "More importantly, you were underground. Sealed up. That's a lot of obstacles to get through just to take one person. This isn't some random kidnapping - whoever took your kid had an agenda."

Abby squeezed Hancock's hand, feeling a mixture of emotions. What kind of agenda would involve going through so much effort to take an infant?

"I don't understand..." she choked out, "Agenda...? What possible reason could someone have for taking him...?"

"Well, there's a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people," Nick pointed out. "Raiders, Super Mutants, the Gunners, and of course there's the Institute..."

Institute. Abby was hearing that word far too often these days.

"But I thought the Institute replaced people with synths?" she asked. "They didn't replace Shaun - they outright took him!"

"While that tends to be the case, they _are_ the boogeyman of the Commonwealth," he reminded her. "Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why - those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got the newer models - good as human - that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows."

"But... why?" she wondered.

"That's the problem - nobody knows why they do it, what their plan is, or where they are. Not even me, and I'm a synth myself."

Abby felt furious, wanting to yell at the detective, ask him why the hell he didn't know anything if he was one of them. The gentle rubbing of Hancock's thumb against the back of her hand reminded her that Nick was a friend, however. If Piper and Hancock trusted him, wasn't that good enough?

"You really don't know where they are...?" she asked softly.

"Afraid not, doll. Seems to be some sort of security measure that blocks out those memories," he explained. "Any synth that gets trashed, left behind, or escapes the Institute has that problem. Probably some kind of fail-safe."

"And which were you?" she wondered.

"As far as I can tell? I was just part of their unwanted trash," he answered. "A discarded prototype."

Abby looked down at her hands, feeling embarrassed for even asking. She hadn't given much thought to what Nick was or how he had ended up as a detective in Diamond City. He didn't seem particularly bothered over the question, but she felt her heart break a little for him. Nobody deserved that.

"I'm.... sorry..." she murmured quietly. "I didn't.... I didn't realize...."

Nick seemed to shrug it off. "Well, at least I think I'm a prototype. I've never seen any other synth like myself. There are older models that are dumb as rocks and all metal. Then you have the newer ones that are almost human. Me? I'm somewhere in between."

The shift in topic made Abby wonder just how human synths could be. Did he feel emotional pain? The emptiness of abandonment? He certainly didn't let on that bothered him. Was he truly just a machine? Even Codsworth seemed to have emotions. If synths were made to be more like humans, wouldn't he, at the very least, feel _something_?

"Anyway," he spoke up, as though to fill the silence that had taken over the room, "This speculation is getting us off track. Let's focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?"

Abby shifted in her chair. How could she forget? She only saw them every night in her dreams, after all.

"There was a woman, dressed in some sort of hazard suit," she recalled, "And then the man... he had this metal brace on his arm. He was bald... had this scar across his eye. And his voice... low and rough... like sandpaper across your face..."

Nick looked over his shoulder from where Ellie had been unpacking boxes. Her gaze immediately met his, having overheard what Abby had just said. Something about her description of the man clearly caught their attention.

".... You didn't hear the name 'Kellogg' at all, did you?" Nick wondered, casting his attention back to Abby. She shrugged.

"No, they never said their names. Why?" she asked.

"Too big of a coincidence...." Nick hummed. "Ellie?"

"Already ahead of you!" she called back, emerging from one of the boxes with a file. She started flipping through the papers. "Bald head, scar... the description certainly matches. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work, but no one knows who his employer is."

"Wait - you know who that bastard is?!" Abby asked. She stood up, placing her hands on Nick's desk as she leaned forward. "Who is he?! Where is he?!"

"Calm down, sweetheart," Nick told her. "No use in rushing in before we have the details."

Abby sat back down, but bounced her knee up and down, irritated about having to wait. Hancock placed his arm around her, settling it across her shoulders. She looked at him, an encouraging smile on his face. She had forgotten how it felt to have someone there for moments where she was barely able to contain herself. She had missed it more than she realized.

"Says he bought a house here - the one in the West Stands?" Ellie noted as she scanned the documents. "There was a ten year old boy with him. Nobody's seen them around for quite some time, though."

"That's Shaun!" Abby blurted out. "It has to be!"

"Don't jump the gun on me," Nick lectured, giving her a skeptical look. "You said you were looking for an infant, remember? That's over nine years difference by my count." Abby shook her head.

"He was a baby at the time, but... I think they re-froze me?" she tried to recall. "It's fuzzy, but what if... what if it's been nine years since he was taken? What if they put me back into the cryo-gen after kidnapping him?"

"It's possible," Valentine considered, "But he could also have a kid of his own. Or it could have been someone else's kid. Either way, they both vanished a while back."

"It has to be him...." she continued to murmur, hands shaking.

"Think we can check out his place?" Hancock asked. Nick nodded, standing up.

"Let's take a walk over there. See if we can snoop out where he went," he agreed. Abby didn't need to be told twice. She got up, bolting over to the door.

"Might wanna slow down, Sunshine," Hancock told her as he secured the scarf around his face. "Unless you're certain where you're goin'?"

She bit her lower lip, chewing nervously. She had no clue where the house was, but patience had never been one of her virtues.

Nick whistled, getting Dogmeat's attention. He had been stretched out next to where Ellie had been sorting. His ears perked up as he darted over to the synth, tail wagging.

"C'mon, boy," Nick said, walking over to the door. Abby didn't question why Nick was bringing the dog along. She was too focused on getting to Kellogg's house. The detective kept up a slow pace, casually strolling even after they were outside the office.

 _"Because, ya know, it's not like we're trying to track down a killer who has my child or anything,"_  she thought to herself as she impatiently bounced along.

"I didn't want Ellie to hear this," Nick told them after they gained some distance, "but I think you should know. Everything I dug up about Kellogg before his disappearance is bad news."

"Great," she sighed. Making her more anxious about this guy's intentions was not helping.

"He's more than just a mercenary," he continued. "He's a professional - quick, clean, thorough. Has no enemies, because they're all dead.... except you."

"If he's our guy, then you can bet that I'll make him regret that exception," Abby replied irritably.

"Well, nine to one odds says he's our man. It's more than just you identifying his distinguishing features," he explained. "The MO is all him. Leading a small team to kidnap a baby and leaving one of the parents alive for later? Not many mercs in the Commonwealth can pull that off."

"It worries me that you're implying there are plenty of mercs in the Commonwealth who would _want_  to pull that off," she sighed.

"You'd be amazed what people'll do for a few caps," Hancock reminded her.

Nick led the group up a ramp toward an old house. The lights around it were burned out, making it difficult to see.

"Keep an eye out, will ya?" Nick asked. "Let's see if I can get this door open..."

He began to tamper with the lock. Abby wondered who she was supposed to keep a look out for - nobody else seemed to be anywhere near the place. She couldn't fault people for keeping their distance - it certainly didn't feel like the most inviting spot in the city, which was saying quite a bit given the type of residents she had run into so far.

"No luck," Nick sighed, "Maybe you should give it a try?"

Abby looked at the door. "Uh.... I really suck at picking locks," she confessed. Hancock walked over.

"Let me try!" he offered. He pulled a few bobby pins out of his pocket, making Abby question exactly how much stuff he carried with him on any given day. He twisted the metal around, but was met with the sound of one of the pins snapping.

"Well, I tried," he shrugged.

"Guess we'll need to find the key," Nick decided. "McDonough probably has it, given that it's abandoned Diamond City property."

".... are ya seriously asking us to go talk to McDonough?" Hancock asked, frowning. Abby sighed, kicking at the door. She let out a curse as the kick connected, pain shooting up her foot.

"Well, it's more productive than hurting ourselves trying to get in," Nick pointed out.

"Okay, sure, whatever... let's go talk to the asshole," she muttered, wincing at the throbbing in her toes.

"I'll stay here and see if I can't jimmy this lock open," Nick told her. So much for her plans to have him do all the talking. Hancock followed along, trying to keep up as she increased her pace.

"Slow down, sister - McDonough's not going anywhere anytime soon... unfortunately," he noted.

"This.... _thing_  has my baby," she snapped back. "So time is _kinda_  important right now, okay?!" Hancock reached out, grabbing her arm and tugging her to a stop. "What the hell, John?!" she began to yell.

"Look, it's hard enough to breathe through this thing when we're not running full-speed," he sighed, gesturing at the scarf. "I know you're worried, but ya need to calm down. You ain't gonna get that key if you burst in there like this." Abby's hands were shaking as she tried not to shout back at Hancock. She knew he meant well. He pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back gently. "We're gonna get through this, okay?" he murmured in her ear. "We'll find him - Nicky's good at this sorta thing, and I sure ain't gonna rest 'til your kid's safe and sound, alright?"

Abby nodded quietly, letting a few stray tears escape as she buried her face against Hancock's shoulder. She felt like a mess, but was glad to have someone there to help pull her back together.

"Now, if you wanna take some Jet before you go in there..." he offered. Abby let out a small laugh, shaking her head.

"That's your solution to everything, John," she noted in an amused tone.

"Hey, it's effective!" he replied. Abby looked up at him, planting a kiss on the part of the scarf that covered his lips. "Oh, now that's just not fair-" he protested, tugging at the cloth.

"Keep it on - last thing you want is for me to have to go on a rampage because someone's freaking out over ghouls," she insisted, feeling a little calmer. She wiped the tears from her face, holding Hancock's hand as she headed up the ramp that led to the Mayor's Office lift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Sorry this one feels so short! I'll try and work on the next chapter over the weekend. Lots of angst incoming!))


	17. Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com)]

Abby's nervousness dissolved the instant she walked into Mayor McDonough's office. Seeing Piper was a very welcome, if not unexpected, surprise.

"Why doesn't the mayor come out of his office, huh?!" Piper demanded to the secretary stationed at the front desk. "He afraid of talking to the press? I bet if I said I was with the Institute, he'd come running..."

"You ever think maybe you could get a man's attention easier if you used softer words, honey?" the secretary asked condescendingly. "Maybe shout a little less?"

"Ah, that reminds me of this article I'm writing about the mayor's affair with a certain air-headed blonde..." Piper retorted with a grin. And here Hancock had thought it was Abby who was going to cause a scene. The secretary stared past the reporter, noticing the vault dweller.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Piper turned around to see who was being addressed.

"Oooh! Look who it is!" she perked up.  "What brings you to the Mayor's office?"

"I.... was about to ask you the same thing, actually," Abby replied.

"I'm trying to find out why the Mayor happens to be meeting with the same suspicious looking courier every other week," Piper explained. "Not from any settlement I've heard of, not from a caravan - always in and out before anyone has a chance to talk to him."

"Let me guess," Abby sighed, "something to do with the Institute?"

"You're learning!" Piper eagerly proclaimed.

"If you're done crowding the reception area, Miss Piper, the Mayor needs to make time for... more responsible citizens," the secretary irritably reminded her.

"You mean like the one inhaling Jet over there?" Piper asked, pointing to Hancock. He stood near a corner, keeping his back turned to the room as he attempted to get a quick fix in without anyone seeing his face.

"Could you draw any more attention, Piper?" Abby hissed softly.

"Fine," she sighed. "I was just leaving anyway." She walked toward the elevator, punching the button and waiting.

"The Mayor is receiving visitors, as long as they aren't members of the press," the secretary informed them. "Did you need help?"

"Uh... yeah..." Abby fidgeted. "There's this abandoned house? I was wondering if it was possible to get the key for it. It's kinda important..."

"You're talking about Mister Kellogg's old place?" she asked. Abby nodded.

"Uh... yeah... that's the one." The secretary looked annoyed as she glanced back down at her papers.

"You'd have to ask the Mayor directly if you want the keys," she informed her.

"Oh c'mon!" Hancock argued nearby. His scarf was back on now that he seemed to have his fill of the Jet. "Can't you just get it for us?"

"And if I could, why should I?" the secretary asked, looking up from her desk.

"Look - the man who owned that house kidnapped my baby," Abby explained, tearing up. "Please? I just need to find him..."

"Look, that's sad and all, but it's got nothing to do with me," the woman argued. "How do I even know you're legit?"

Piper's head peeked from around the corner. "Excuuuse me?" she asked. She quickly walked over, putting an arm around Abby. "Do you seriously not know who this woman is?!" she asked angrily.

"Should I?" the secretary asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh boy, you really don't get much news up here!" Piper quipped. "This here? This is the Vault Dweller! People have been talking about her all over the place! Not only was she in my paper, but the whole town noticed when she was telling her story to Dr. Sun the other day!"

Abby sniffled a little, not even trying to hold back her emotions. She couldn't force herself to break down, but it certainly helped that she was almost there legitimately.

"Yeah, you know, it would be a real shame if an article came out about how the Mayor and his secretary turned down a mother in distress, especially after all she's been through," Hancock pointed out.

The woman sighed, shaking her head. "Okay, okay... look, I'm just going to leave this key on my desk and 'forget' I put it there." She took a key out of a drawer, setting it down. She got up, walking toward the hallway of offices nearby. "Hey," she called back over her shoulder at Abby. "Your baby's lucky he has a mother like you. For what it's worth, I hope you find him."

"Uh.... thanks..." Abby replied sheepishly. She quickly pocketed the key, turning to leave. She smiled at Piper appreciatively as she passed by. She would have to thank her later.

Once she and Hancock were back outside, she let out a sigh, leaning back against the nearby railing.

"Shit, this is getting exhausting," she murmured.

"Need to take a break?" he wondered.

"Before you even ask, no, I don't want any chems," she replied, annoyed. Hancock shook his head, reaching over and taking her hand in his.

"Didn't mean that kind of a break," he explained. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. While she couldn't quite gauge his expression due to his disguise, his voice had quite a bit of concern reflected in it. "You look stressed, Sunshine, and it's been a long day. You spent all night talkin' to Nick instead of sleepin'. Maybe go back to the inn, relax a little?"

"Valentine's waiting on us, not to mention Shaun," she argued. "I don't have the luxury of rest right now."

"I can deliver the key to him," he told her. "Please go get some sleep? I really don't want ya overdoin' it..."

"But if he finds something, we need to act fast," she insisted. "I don't think I could sleep even if I tried! Not knowing that we're so close...!" Hancock gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"You're not gonna be easily convinced, are ya?" he sighed. "Alright, we'll go, but please don't push it? You ain't gonna be much help to Shaun if you're too tired to shoot straight."

\---

  
Abby ignored Hancock's concerns, continuing to drive herself as more clues were found. Kellogg's house didn't lead anywhere upfront, but there were plenty of items lying around that gave Dogmeat the scent trail he needed. The three followed the canine quite a distance outside of Diamond city, finding breadcrumbs of Kellogg's presence along the way. Bloodied rags, corpses of people he had run into, even a destroyed Assaultron - all of them led the group to one place: Fort Hagen.

While Abby wanted to pushing forward, her exhaustion was difficult to hide.

  
"Look, I don't need to sleep or eat, but you're different," Nick pointed out. "We can stop for a few hours - let you rest up."

"I'm _fine_..." she insisted. Hancock shook his head.

"Sunshine...."

"He's right _here_!" she argued. "I can sleep when he's dead!"

"Not if he kills you first, sweetheart," Nick replied.  "Going in like this? Not a good idea.  C'mon, we'll find a place to crash for a bit."

Abby was unhappy with the idea of stopping, but she was clearly outnumbered. She begrudgingly followed along as the group searched for a place to camp. They eventually stumbled upon a parking garage. In a secluded corner of it, a settler had made a small, yet somewhat cozy home. Unfortunately, it appeared they were too late to save its former resident. A woman sat slumped over in a chair, chems scattered around her. She had died fairly recently. The hideout itself was well equipped with a chemistry station, a bed, and a few shelves. Stimpaks and other first aid items were stashed around the place. Nick walked over, checking the woman's pulse.

"Must have been a chem overdose," he noted solemnly. He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her towards the exit. Dogmeat tagged along, leaving Hancock and Abby alone.

"What's he doing?" Abby asked.

"Knowing Nicky? Probably burying her. He's sentimental like that," Hancock replied. Abby smiled sadly.

"He seems sweet... reminds me a lot of my dad's better qualities," she murmured, shedding her coat and plopping down on the bed.

"Yeah, we go way back," he noted, examining the chem station. "For a synth, he's got a heart bigger than most human folk."

Abby leaned back on the bed, but tried to fight the sleepy feeling that tugged at her. She was afraid if she allowed herself to doze off, she would sleep for too long. She had Kellogg where she wanted him and the last thing she needed was for him to get away. Hancock mixed a few things around at the station.

"So you don't just use, you make your own?" she asked in amusement.

"It's a good skill to have," Hancock grinned. "Have any requests?"

Abby thought for a moment before replying, "PsychoJet?" Hancock looked over at her, his expression colored with surprise.

"Didn't pin ya for the Psycho type," he hummed. "Ya think you can handle something like that?"

"I... just think it could come in handy is all," she murmured. She had never taken Psycho before, but was aware of its effects. She wanted the slow feeling that Jet brought her, but needed something that could temporarily block her inhibitions. Hancock didn't argue, getting to work on making a batch. Nick walked back in, brushing dirt off of his coat and hands. Dogmeat limped along, causing Abby to sit up in alarm.

"Kellogg's got synths patrolling the place," Nick explained, walking over to a first aid kit. "I'll stay watch while you guys get some rest."

"Is he okay?!" Abby asked, looking at Dogmeat.

"Got banged up a little," Nick admitted, taking a stimpak and kneeling down next to the canine. He scratched behind the dog's ears before injecting the stimpak into the scruff of his neck. "Thata boy," he praised the canine, gently rubbing the injection sight.  "We can always find more stimpaks, but there's only one Dogmeat."   Dogmeat wagged his tail, licking the detective's face in turn.

Abby smiled fondly at the display. Nick's way with the animal touched a soft spot with her. Again, it reminded her of her father's more positive characteristics. She could only hope that Nick didn't possess any of the more negative aspects her father had held. So far, she hadn't seen that side of him, but he certainly gave her enough nostalgia of her old man that she didn't think she could handle hearing disappointment in his voice.

Hancock walked over to her, handing her a couple of syringes.

"I made some extra, but I really wouldn't recommend taking more than one," he cautioned her. "You're a lightweight, and this stuff is pretty strong."

"Noted," she replied, leaning forward and placing the PsychoJet in her coat pocket.

Nick watched the exchange, but didn't speak up. He didn't seem to approve of the chem usage, but he kept his opinion to himself. Hancock kicked off his boots, getting comfortable on the bed. He tried to get Abby to relax, placing an arm around her and pulling her close. She let herself lean against him, but still didn't want to rest. As much as she loved being near to him, her mind was bogged down with the prospect of revenge against the man who had killed her husband.

"I'll go keep an eye out," Nick informed them, getting up and moving outside the entrance. Dogmeat happily shadowed him.  Abby sighed, finally reclining fully. Hancock curled around her, humming happily. She knew he had been worried for her. Maybe just a short nap wouldn't hurt things. She closed her eyes, attempting to force sleep to come.

\---

Abby woke up, sweat pouring off of her. She could feel her heart pounding and tears stinging the back of her eyes. The nightmare had been different than usual. Sure, the vault had still been involved, as had Kellogg. Instead of cryogen pods and Nate, however, it had been an open room and Hancock. In her dream, he had been tied up in the same fashion Kent had been by Sinjin - kneeling with his hands behind his back. Kellogg was using him to get to her - threatening to execute him. She couldn't move - couldn't do anything but just watch as he fired a bullet into Hancock's head. The sound of the gunshot in the dream had prompted her to wake up. Everything seemed quiet now, save for the sound of Hancock snoring next to her.

The fear of losing Hancock was something that already lurked in the corner of her mind, but seeing it play out like that only amplified its effectiveness. She had lost Nate to this monster. She couldn't lose anyone else. Not Hancock, not Nick, or even Dogmeat. She carefully tried to slip out of Hancock's grasp without waking him. Fortunately, whatever he had taken before sleeping had him out cold. She scooped up her coat, rifle, and supply bag, securing everything before making her way out the doorway.

She glanced around the corner, not seeing Nick anywhere nearby. Perhaps he and Dogmeat were off patrolling another area. She had to be careful if she wanted to avoid being noticed. She quietly walked around the parking garage, spotting a side door into Fort Hagen. She crept inside, not quite certain what awaited her.

The place was rather dark, but there were enough flickering overhead lights to see where she was going without use of a flashlight. She held her breath as she snuck along, keeping close to the wall. The sound of metal clanking against the linoleum floor could be heard up ahead. She froze, watching as a skeletal creature strolled past. The eyes glowed yellow, much like Nick's. In fact, it was how she pictured Nick would look if he didn't have the bits of skin or clothes.

The synth paused, scanning the hallway. Abby ducked behind a door, trying not to breathe too loudly in spite of the fear that gripped her.

"The sensitivity of my sensors clearly needs adjustment," the synth noted before moving along.

Abby waited a moment before peeking out from behind the door. The coast was clear. She quietly made her way down the hall, turning in the opposite direction from where the synth seemed to be headed. She continued to make her way through the twists and turns of the building, stopping every so often to hide from more patrolling synths. While they weren't as forward as ferals, she found a different kind of horror gripped her when she looked at them. She didn't know much about synths, but she was certain it wouldn't take much for them to tear her into pieces.

She turned another corner, finding herself an impossible situation. The entire hallway was lined with the metallic creatures. There was no way she could sneak past them without being spotted. She silently cursed, retracing her steps and trying another path. She came across a set of stairs. Not certain where exactly she was going, she ascended them. At the top of the staircase was a welcome sight. A Protectron sat in its charging station, a console attached nearby. She wasn't particularly good at hacking. It was something she had considered asking Nick to teach her, but there simply hadn't been enough time. She walked up to the monitor, the password entry request blinking in front of her. She chewed at her lip. The password could be anything. She decided to type something in on a whim: "Guest123". A confirmation chime echoed in response, bringing up the commands for the Protectron unit. _Seriously?_ The Commonwealth really _was_ bad at this...

She set the unit to Law Enforcement mode, backing away as it powered up.

"Protectron online!" the robot proclaimed. She quickly crouched into a hiding spot, waiting for it to make its rounds. It took awhile, but eventually she heard gunshots downstairs. She could only hope that the synths hadn't overpowered the unit. She slipped back down, peeking around the corner to observe the heavily guarded hallway. The Protectron had seen better days, but it was still standing. Synth parts were scattered along the floor. She grinned, darting forward to see if they had left anything useful behind. One of the rifles on the ground looked rather high-tech. It appeared to use fusion cells for ammo. A laser rifle? She had just found herself a new toy!

She continued her tactic of letting the Protectron walk ahead, allowing it to clear out anything in its path. Eventually the two came across a secure-looking door. While it opened without any resistance, the Protectron was immediately met with a shock of electricity upon passing through - a trap that had been cleverly set up to fry any trespassers.   The unit stood no chance, disintegrating in front of her.  Abby felt ill at the idea that she could have turned into a pile of ash had she allowed herself to walk through first. She stepped across the threshold, jumping as a sickeningly familiar voice came over the building's speakers.

"If it isn't my old friend, the frozen TV dinner," Kellogg mocked, voice echoing down the halls. "Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler."

Abby gritted her teeth. Was he watching a security feed? She had been so careful not to get spotted. She kept her mouth shut, hoping that he hadn't just ruined her chances at getting through the rest of the building. She carefully prodded at the next door, letting out a sigh of relief as nothing occurred when opened. After turning the corner, however, she was met with a synth and a turret, both fully aware of her presence. She dove behind the corner before they had a chance to hit her. She looked around the room she, noticing several items on a nearby desk. She picked one of the items up, examining it. It was a grenade of some sort - maybe plasma? She decided to test it, nearing the corner again and tossing it down the hallway. The explosion wasn't as loud as a frag grenade. She peered back into the hallway, nothing but metal debris left.  The grenade certainly did the trick. She grinned, dashing back to the desk and searching it thoroughly. More plasma grenades were uncovered along with some fusion cells. _Hell yes_.

She pushed forward, creeping around every bend.  She was successful at shooting down single synth units while using the grenades on larger groups.

"Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years, but I don't need a roommate," Kellogg taunted over the loudspeakers. "Leave." Abby wondered if he was trying to provoke a response from her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, moving forward without a sound. "Hmph. Never expected you to come knocking on my door," he continued as progressed further down the dark hallways. "Gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky."

The insult did eat away at her. She knew she had been lucky so far in her survival. Hancock had made a similar comment to her not too long ago, after all. Maybe Kellogg's assessment of her wasn't entirely incorrect, but she wasn't going down without a fight. She turned another corner, a laser shot knocking her hat off. Her nostrils flared as she threw grenade at the synths, backing away. She liked that hat! She waited until the hallway was silent before retrieving it. It was shot up pretty badly, much to her annoyance.

"Look, you're pissed off," the taunting continued. "I get it. I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It's not going to go your way."

"Oh shut up!" she finally spat out. She bit her tongue as the sound of metal clanking could be heard. She quickly sought cover, taking pot-shots at anything that came barreling around the corner.

"You've got guts and determination," Kellogg continued. "That's admirable, but you're in over your head in ways you can't possibly comprehend. It's not too late. Stop, turn around, and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that."

She had gotten too far to just walk away. She trudged ahead, leaving a trail of metal debris in her wake. She eventually arrived in a room with a locked door. She couldn't find a console anywhere and it didn't appear to be pickable, even if she had been confident with a bobby pin. She growled as she beat her fist against the door angrily.

"Okay," Kellogg announced overhead, "you made it. My synths are standing down. Let's talk."

Oh, sure, _now_ he wanted to talk. The door clicked as it unlocked. She pushed it aside, entering what appeared to be a control room.  Her heart pounded as she saw the man she had been seeking. He held his hands in the air, signaling that he wasn't going to shoot her. Two synths stood near him, their guns lowered. Their stare made Abby feel even more nervous than she already was.

"And there she is," Kellogg noted as he approached her, his voice grating against her skin - that same damn voice she heard every night in her dreams. "The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth."

"You murdering, kidnapping psychopath!" Abby hissed. "Give me my baby, NOW!" Kellogg smiled at her.

"Shaun's a good kid," he told her. "So maybe he's not quite a 'baby' anymore, but he's doing great. Only.... he's not here. He's with the people pulling the strings. You and I are just puppets in all of this. My stage is just a little bigger is all." Abby seethed with rage. She wanted to kill him right then and there. "You can turn around right now. Go back the way you came," Kellogg offered.

"Fuck you!" she bit back. "You killed my husband! You're a dead man!"

"Your husband was.... a regrettable accident," he replied.

"Accident?! ACCIDENT?!" she screamed at him, "You deliberately shot him, you son of a bitch!"

"Let it go. Your time's done," Kellogg stated calmly. His demeanor pissed her off all the more. "Your son is exactly where he belongs, where he's safe, comfortable, and loved - The Institute."

The answer as to Shaun's whereabouts didn't quite surprise Abby. All the talk of the Institute had already filled her head with a certain expectation. She did have one question, however.

"Where is it? How do you get there?!" she demanded.

"You don't," he informed her. "You open the closet, it's just a closet. You can never find the monster that hides inside. Not until it jumps out at you."

Abby had enough of Kellogg's cryptic bullshit.

"I'll find him no matter where he is!" she growled.

"That's the spirit!" Kellogg laughed. "You know, you surprise me, I have to admit. I find myself actually kind of... liking you. You might've actually been a good mother. And I admire your dedication, even if it is ultimately useless."

Whether or not he truly meant it as a compliment or was simply using his words to goad her further, Abby couldn't have cared less.

"In a hundred years, when I finally die," Abby yelled, "I only hope I go to Hell so I can kill you all over again, you piece of shit!"

She raised the laser rifle at him, finger reaching for the trigger. Before she could react, Kellogg stepped behind one of the computer consoles, signaling for his guards to fire. She quickly retreated into the previous room, a burning sensation hitting the back of her arm as she did so. The laser wound hurt, but it wasn't going to chase her off.

She hissed as more shots whirled past her. She quickly took one of the plasma grenades, waiting for a break in the fire to throw it around the corner. It succeeded in destroying one of the synths. She repeated this, using all the grenades she had acquired. After ensuring nobody but Kellogg was left standing, she aimed her rifle at him. He grinned as he pressed a button on his belt, vanishing into thin air.

“The hell-?!” Abby spat out, foolishly leaving her cover. She looked around, no trace of him. Suddenly, she felt a sharp blow from the front. A knife protruded from her shoulder. She staggered backward, barely managing to keep herself upright.

“Stupid kid,” Kellogg taunted. "Shoulda walked away while you could...."

She still couldn’t see him. She fumbled with her pockets, pulling out a syringe. She didn’t even wince as she slid the needle under her skin, shooting the PsychoJet into her. The sensation was painful. Her veins suddenly felt as though they were on fire. Part of her wanted to curl up and scream, but an even larger part of her felt driven to destroy everything in her line of sight. She gripped her rifle tightly, firing off round after round, not even certain what direction she needed to be shooting. She didn’t even care – all her senses told her was that everything needed to hurt as much as she did.

A gunshot went off nearby, a bullet ripping through her side. She hissed, but her adrenaline pumped so strongly that she maintained a grip on her rifle. And then she saw it – a small shift in her surroundings. It was subtle, but the Jet slowed everything down enough that she could distinguish the cloaked figure from everything else. She fired on the direction of the movement, blood spurting from the air. Kellogg's cloaking device couldn’t save him now. She fired another round, feeling almost euphoric as more injuries resulted. She wanted to make it rain blood all over the floor until not a drop was left in the bastard. Suddenly, he threw down an object, darting in the opposite direction. It took far too long for Abby’s mind to register that the item was a grenade. She tried to seek cover, but became caught up in the blast. She felt her body slam against one of the computer consoles. Her ears were ringing. It hurt to move and she could feel the effects of the PsychoJet wearing off. She shakingly reached back into her pocket, grabbing another syringe.  Her hand brushed across a few doses of Buffout.  Perfect.  She didn't give a fuck as to what happened to her own body - she just badly wanted to break Kellog’s.

All the chems made no difference as she attempted to stand up only to feel another blow to her back. She fell to the floor, the metallic taste of her own blood lingering in her mouth. If she was going to die like this, she was going to drag him to Hell with her. She pulled out a frag mine, fingers moving into position to arm it. Suddenly, gunshots rang out, knocking him away from her. She looked up to see Nick and Hancock. The cloaking device began to short circuit, exposing Kellogg. He took another grenade from his belt. Abby gritted her teeth, pushing past the pain as she lunged at his legs, tackling him to the ground. She bit his arm, her teeth sinking deep into his flesh as she wrestled the grenade out of his hand. She threw it as far as she could, fearing that he may have pulled the pin. The lack of an explosion told her that her worry had been for naught.

“Hold it right there,” Nick ordered, gun pointed at Kellogg’s head. “Put your hands where I can see ‘em.”

Before Kellogg even had a chance to respond, Abby pulled the knife from her shoulder, driving it deep into his neck. She gave it a twist as he choked on his own blood. She pulled the knife out, only to jab it into him again, and again, and again. Her entire body throbbed, but she couldn’t care less. She wanted to rip into his flesh, tear away all that was there. How dare he look more human than someone like Nick? How dare he masquerade around in skin as though he were anything less than a monster? Her hand shook as she continued to hack away at him. She felt someone touch her shoulder from behind.

“He’s dead, Sunshine,” came a concerned voice.

“Not dead enough…!” she snapped back, her throat feeling sore from the screaming. She lifted her hand again, not ceasing her efforts to tear apart the bastard in front of her.

“Abby!” came a more desperate tone. “That’s enough!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” she growled. Warmth pressed against her as Hancock hugged her from behind.

“Look, I’m not going to object if you wanna turn him into paste, but not all of that blood is his,” he pointed out. “You’re hurt. We can come back after you’re patched up if you wanna burn this place to the ground and piss on the ashes, but right now? You need help.”

Abby’s shaking grew more violent as she started to realize what she was doing. She was covered in gore, the body in front of her mutilated beyond recognition. She let the knife slide from her hand, clanking against the floor as it landed.

“Thatta girl,” Hancock murmured, hugging her even tighter. She couldn’t seem to control herself as tears fell freely, choked sobs emerging from her throat every time she tried to speak. Hancock loosened his grip, letting her turn around before glomping her in another hug. She clung to his coat, fingers fidgeting idly with the buttonholes as she let herself break down. She hadn’t wanted either of them to see her like this – let alone Hancock. What did he think of her now? Her answer seemed to come in the form of him rubbing her back, gentle whispers of, “Let it all out.”

Nick knelt down nearby, examining what remained of Kellogg. He reached over, pulling a metallic item from what was left of his brain.

“You’re kidding – that asshole was a synth?” Hancock questioned. Nick shook his head.

“This is different than most synth components I’ve seen," he pointed out.  "Better have it analysed. It may not be what we think it is, but it sure as hell something the Institute conjured up."

“They…. they have my baby…. “ Abby sniffled. Hancock threaded fingers through her hair, a sensation she found quite soothing.

“Don’t you worry – we’ll get him back,” he whispered to her. His words had a degree of uncertainty to them, as though he was trying to convince himself that he spoke the truth. Abby didn’t have the strength to argue. She felt weak – dizzy. Was it due to her injuries or all the chems she had taken? Either way, she wasn’t certain if she could stand, let alone walk. She realized how bad her injuries must have been as her companions echoed her thoughts.

“Need me to help get her outta here?” Nick offered.

“If you can just get the bottle of Buffout from my pocket, I’ll be good,” Hancock told him.

“You really need to lay off of that junk, John,” Nick lectured as he dug around in one of the pockets.

“Hasn’t killed me yet,” he replied. He popped a couple of the pills after Nick handed over the bottle. A moment later, Abby felt herself being lifted.

“Am I really that heavy?” she asked softly. Hancock smiled.

“I’d just rather not risk dropping you,” he answered. “You’re not exactly replaceable.”

Abby would have laughed if her entire being didn’t ache. It wasn’t just physical anguish. What had she accomplished here? Nate was avenged, sure, but that didn’t bring him back. Even worse – Kellogg had been their only lead. Now that bridge was destroyed, nothing but a mush of blood and guts smeared across the floor. She wanted to regret it, but ending him had felt amazing. It was a sensation she was quite ashamed of. Taking pleasure in snuffing out someone's life? Did that make her any less of a monster than Kellogg?

The three walked outside, cold air catching Abby off-guard. She didn't recall it being so windy earlier. Her ears still were ringing from the explosions and gunfire. She was starting to hear a slight buzzing sound, making her wonder just how badly she had damaged her eardrums.

"Holy shit..." Hancock mumbled.  "I'm not losin'it, am I?  You're seein' this, too - right, Nick?"

Abby became curious. She tried to maneuver around to see what he was staring at.  Overhead was a giant airship. Helicopters and other aircraft departed from it as it drifted by.

"People of the Commonwealth," a loudspeaker called out from the ship, "Do not interfere! Our intentions are peaceful! We are the Brotherhood of Steel!"

Abby pondered whether or not she was tripping from the chem intake. It made her never want to touch the stuff again.  The reaction from her companions told her that at least a certain degree of what she was witnessing was indeed real.

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing," Nick mused poetically.

"Are they... are they here to help...?" she asked.

"Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth?" Nick replied. "Mark my words, they're here to start a war."

"They sure know how to make an entrance, I'll give 'em that," Hancock whistled.

Abby nestled back down, feeling nauseated and weak. She couldn't bring herself to feel much at the moment. She could sense that they were moving again as Hancock continued to carry her. She closed her eyes, not fighting the sleep this time around.


	18. Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com)]

Hancock was at a loss as to what to do. Abby was far too injured to safely travel back to Diamond City, but she clearly needed medical attention from a professional. He and Nick did what they could, bandaging her wounds and applying stimpaks. They had taken her back to the small camp in the parking garage. After combing the area, more medical supplies were salvage from a nearby blood clinic, though it only could do so much.

The two debated as to what course of action they needed to take. It was finally decided that Nick would stay with Abby to ensure her safety - after all, he didn't need sleep, allowing him to stand watch the entire time. Hancock and Dogmeat would go in search of help. He headed in the direction of Diamond City, not certain if he would find anyplace else willing to lend a hand. Even if there were other settlements nearby, how many of them would try and shoot him on sight? At least in Diamond City, he could perhaps get Piper to convince Dr. Sun to aid them.

He tried not to dwell too much on his worries as he followed the road, but it was difficult not to. The past few days with Abby had been like a dream. Being with her simply felt right - as though he had just found a piece of himself that was previously missing. There was a part of him that was almost frightened by the feeling, wondering if he should run from it before karma caught up to him, yet for once he couldn't bring himself to just leave. It had taken quite a bit of coaxing from Nick just to get him to abandon her side in order to seek help. He knew the synth was the best person to keep watch over her, but that didn't make the decision any easier. As if things couldn't get much worse, the sun was giving him a headache. Someone really needed to turn that damn thing down.

He continued along, sucking idly on a Mentat as he made his way further down the road. He eventually stumbled across an old abandoned trailer park. In the distance, ferals could be seen roaming around. For him, it wasn't a problem - ferals ignored ghouls of any variety, for whatever reason. Dogmeat, on the other hand, didn't need to get too close. Of course, as his luck would have it, the pooch took off shortly after the park came into view. _Shit_.

He chased after the dog, cursing the entire way. Dogmeat wasn't a dumb canine by any means, but he was still an animal. Maybe he had picked up the scent of food? The dog came to a halt in front of a sheltered bus stop. There was a ghoul reclined on the bench, his back facing them. At first Hancock assumed it was a feral, but the ghoul rolled over as Dogmeat nudged at him.

"... hey there..." the ghoul gently greeted Dogmeat, reaching over and scratching behind the ears. Dogmeat's tail wagged enthusiastically, as though he were greeting a familiar friend. He gave the ghoul wet tongue kisses all over his face. The ghoul quietly laughed, wiping the drool off on his sleeve.

Hancock squinted as he studied the ghoul's appearance. A gray knit hat with a red medical cross stitched into it adorned his head, accompanied by a pair of glasses. Dirty suspenders covered the rest of him - an outfit that Hancock recognized. But surely this had to be just a hallucination. There was no way he could ever be _that_ lucky...

"Mercy?" Hancock called out. The ghoul shifted, lifting his head and looking in Hancock's direction.

".... Mayor...?!" he asked, moving to sit up.

"Well, shit..." Hancock mused with a grin. Mercy was a doctor who hailed from the Slog. He was a frequent visitor to Goodneighbor, often traveling there to restock on supplies and help out where he could. When Abby had showed up at the city entrance months ago, bloodied and broken, Mercy had been the one to patch her back up. He was one of the best doctors Hancock knew - not that he would have expected less from someone who had well over two hundred years of experience under their belt. But what the hell was he doing all the way out here? It was evident that the doctor had the same question on his mind in regard to Hancock.

"What're you doing out here?" Mercy asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

"I should be asking you the same thing!" Hancock replied. Mercy placed the glasses back on, looking less than amused.

".... Don't ask." he replied.

"You look like shit - ya get plastered or somethin'?" Hancock pryed.

".... what part of 'don't ask' didn't you get?" came the irritable response.

"Alright, alright!" Hancock held up his hands defensively. "Look, it doesn't really matter anyway, so long as you're sober enough to work."

"..... work?" Mercy asked.

"Yeah... um... Abby _kinda_ got herself into another bind..." Hancock explained. "It's a long story - one that can be told on the way over?"

The doctor sighed, getting up. He groaned, looking as though he had seen better days. It took a lot of alcohol for a ghoul to get shit-faced, making Hancock wonder what exactly had happened. Mercy wasn't one to really go into detail on most things, however - especially when his personal life was the topic. He decided to just let it drop for the time being. What was important was that he was there and - even better - wasn't an illusion. Maybe his luck was improving after all....

***

  
Abby's eyes fluttered open, her head swimming.  She felt even worse than when she had first arrived in Goodneighbor.  Everything hurt, and she felt like she might throw up.  The light in the room was so bright, it amplified her pain tenfold.  She was lying in some sort of hospital bed, metal bars placed on the sides to keep her secured.  She could barely lift her head, but was able to tell that she had an IV in her hand.  

Her surroundings were that of a Red Rocket garage, though it was clearly falling apart.  Any dreams of waking up in the pre-war era were certainly shattered as she glanced around.  Her eyes fell on a ghoulish form sitting in a nearby chair.  She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from jumping out of fear.   The last thing she wanted was to jerk her IV about.  The ghoul wasn't Hancock, but she did recognize him.  She had never spoken to the doctor who had saved her life in Goodneighbor - she didn't even know so much as his name - but she certainly remembered what he looked like.  

He was reclined back in his chair, looking thoroughly exhausted.  His shirt was splattered with blood, though it didn't appear to be his own. He seemed lost in thought, though the realization that Abby was awake managed to snap him out of his daze.

"Hey..." he spoke to her in a soft tone, getting up and walking over to her bed.  

"You're... that doctor..." Abby managed to murmur.  Her throat felt sore and it was painful to even talk.  

"How do you feel?" he asked, expression and tone neutral.  

"Like... shit..." was the only thought that came to mind.  

"Probably an improvement from earlier," he mused.  "You seem to have a habit of knocking on death's door."

"I'm... sorry...." she murmured quietly, lower lip quivering.  She felt horrible enough physically.  Mentally, she was starting to recall the events that put her in this situation.  The doctor didn't seem happy with her, either.  What must he have thought about her recklessness?  Everything was starting to overwhelm her at once, silent tears trickling down her cheeks.  The doctor frowned.

"H-hey... it's okay..." he tried to re-assure her.

"But it's... it's not...." Abby sniffled.  "I.... made a mess of everything... and.... and...."

He looked around, seeming quite uncertain as to how to best console his patient.  He finally reached out, settling a hand on her shoulder.  

"No, really... your friends will be back soon - they just stepped out back for a smoke break."  He tried cracking a re-assuring smile, but the result was awkward at best.  "You did good... it could have been a lot worse, really..."

She closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears.  "I... I'm sorry you always have to deal with me l-like this...."

"Hey - it's my job," he told her, keeping his tone soft.  "You're just lucky I happened to be in the area and that the nearby clinic still had what I needed."

Abby opened her eyes again, blinking a few times.  Everything felt blurry to her.  

"Where am I...?" she couldn't help but wonder.

"A Red Rocket station near Fort Hagan," he informed her.   "It's not exactly the most ideal place, but there wasn't much left of the clinic to work with. At least the power works?"

"But... you're from Goodneighbor....?  How'd you get here...?" she questioned.

"Well..." he scratched behind his neck, "For one, I spend most of my time at the Slog - not Goodneighbor.  And... well, how I got here isn't important, really."

Abby sensed there was something the ghoul wasn't telling her, but he seemed rather reluctant to talk about it.  She normally would have been curious enough to prod for information, but her energy level had bottomed out.  She stared quietly at the ceiling for what seemed like several minutes, going over in her mind the events that had occurred.

"Are they... mad at me...?" she asked.  The doctor shrugged.

"I wouldn't say 'mad' so much as 'worried'," he assured her.  Abby sniffled again.

"I didn't want them to see me like that.  I think... I would have rather just died than have them see me like that..."

The doctor didn't reply, though he continued to rub her shoulder, attempting to comfort her.  He seemed at a loss as to what to say.  She wondered how uncomfortable she was making him feel by unloading her emotions in such a manner.

"H-hey... I didn't really catch your name...?" she realized.  He paused for a moment before answering.

"Mercy," came the reply.  It was an unusual name to Abby, but there was a degree of warmth to it.  A doctor named Mercy... it seemed fitting.  He had already saved her twice.  She felt almost embarrassed at how she hadn't even so much as thanked him for that.  The first time he had helped her back in Goodneighbor, she had been so high on Med-X and so terrified of ghouls that she was never able to so much as speak to him.  She didn't like the prospect of repeating that.

"Mercy..." she repeated, forcing a smile.  "Well... thank you, Mercy... for helping me, I mean..."

The doctor seemed caught off-guard by her words at first, but soon relaxed, returning the smile. 

"It's my job," he stated again, his tone lighter this time.  

The sound of a door opening could be heard on the other side of the wall, where the small shop attached to the garage was located. Footsteps could be heard clicking against the floor.  Soon, two familiar figures walked through the sidedoor.  There was so much Abby wanted to say to them - how sorry she was to have worried them, how she wished they hadn't seen that side of her back at Fort Hagan, how she was worried about them getting hurt had they accompanied her.  Instead of the disapproving looks she had expected to see, however, she was met with an expression of relief plastered across Hancock's face as he rushed over to her bedside.  He didn't even have to say a word as he took her hand in his, pressing his lips against it. 

"How's she doing?" Nick asked Mercy.

"She's stable," he replied. "She's not out of hot water yet, but her odds are improving."

"How ya feelin', Sunshine?" Hancock asked her, brushing a hand across her forehead.    

"I'm... just really tired, is all," she oversimplified.  She didn't need to burden him right now with her emotional baggage.  Just knowing he was there and happy to see her made her heart swell.  Hancock pulled up a chair, settling down next to the bed.  

"We got it from here, doc," he noted.  "Go get some sleep - you definitely earned it."

Mercy didn't argue, looking about as tired as Abby felt.  He stepped forward with a syringe of Med-X, administering the dose to Abby.

"This should put her out for awhile.  Just wake me of you notice any changes," he notified them.  Abby only hoped he was able to get adequate sleep.  If nothing else, the Med-X helped keep her from lingering on her worries for much longer as its effects took hold.  The only thing she seemed to remain semi-conscious about was just how wonderful it felt as Hancock gently massaged her hand while she slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Thankyou tons, Vectober, for letting me borrow your Mercy! <3 Visit her blog at [vectober.tumblr.com](http://vectober.tumblr.com) for art and stories about him!))


	19. Medical Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com)]

It was starting to get dark by the time the group approached Diamond City. The journey had taken longer than anticipated, frequent stops having been made to ensure that Abby was fairing well. She hated that everyone was fussing over her health. Even Dogmeat seemed insistent that she take a rest every so often, plopping down in her lap like an over-sized puppy to keep her in place until Mercy gave the go-ahead. She had recovered fairly quickly compared to her near death experience at Goodneighbor. She still felt stiff and sore, but she barely even needed the crutch that Nick had salvaged out of the ruins of the Fort Hagan clinic.

There was a certain amount of appreciation she kept to herself. As much as it annoyed her that her friends treated her like a porcelain doll, the mere fact that they cared so much for her well-being made her feel warm inside. She had no doubt in her mind that she would take a bullet for any of them. While her heart felt secure in the knowledge that they would no doubt do the same for her, she couldn't help but worry about them getting hurt on her behalf. She didn't think she could live with herself if anything happened to them because of her.

The various signs for Diamond City soon came into view. She didn't care for the place, but at least seeing Piper would be a welcome distraction. The reporter's enthusiastic energy was extremely contagious, after all. The group paused for a few minutes while Hancock begrudgingly secured the scarf around his face.

“You know, at this point, maybe we should just see if Nicky can get us in without this stupid getup,” he grumbled.

“It’s just til we get to Piper's office,” Abby sighed. Her primary reason for disliking Diamond City so much was precisely because of their anti-ghoul policy. The fact that it seemed populated by paranoid or indifferent assholes was just icing on the cake. After ensuring Hancock's disguise was in place, she looked over at Mercy. His aviator glasses did well enough in hiding his eyes, but the rest of his face was completely exposed. The knit cap also didn't do much for concealment, though it was better than nothing.

"What are we gonna do about you?" she wondered. Mercy shrugged at her.

“Wasn’t planning on going in,” he explained. “I can get back to Goodneighbor just fine from here.”

Abby made a face, shaking her head. She didn't like the idea of him traveling by himself through the downtown Boston area. After the shit she had encountered in these parts? Sending someone off alone at night just didn't settle well with her.

“You’re not walking back alone,” she protested. Mercy smiled a little at her concern, but attempted to counter her worries.

“I’ll be fine. I travel alone all the time,” he assured her.

“But you don’t _have_ to!” Abby argued.

“Downtown Boston is a bit different than your normal route from the Slog,” Hancock pointed out. Mercy glared at the mayor, clearly not pleased that he had added more fuel to Abby's argument.

“Please, Mercy?” she begged. Sure, Mercy could probably handle himself, but she worried all the same. If she let him go, she knew she would spend the next several days fretting over whether or not he had arrived safely. She hated that part of her brain, but there was very little she could do to alleviate those concerns.

Mercy sighed. “We still have the problem with me sticking out like a sore thumb,” he noted. Abby chewed on her lip, digging through her supply bag. She had picked up random items here and there on the off-chance that they might become useful. She pushed aside stimpaks, spare clothes, food rations, a neat rock that was shaped like a deathclaw…. ah-ha! She pulled out a surgical mask.

“Not only will it hide your face, but it’s appropriate, too, you being a doctor and all!” she proclaimed with a grin, handing it over. Mercy stared at the strip of cloth for a moment, not looking particularly thrilled, but eventually trying it on.

“Still looks rather ghoulish, if you ask me,” Nick pointed out. He was technically right. Abby contemplated for a moment before an idea occurred. She removed her hat, placing it on top of Mercy’s knit cap. The large brim was perfect for concealing just about everything else.

“Is this really necessary?” Mercy asked.

“Well, I mean, those stupid synths shot it full of holes, but it still does a better job than your cap,” Abby tried to argue. Mercy didn’t respond. His face was completely hidden now, yet even with all the cover, his body language seemed to give him the expression of a man who was 110% done with everything and everybody. Abby tried to ignore the negative vibe he gave off. She knew he wasn't happy about the situation, but maybe he would perk up after they got someplace where he could remove the disguise?

“C’mon!” she ordered, moving ahead of the group.

\---

Piper's office was already locked up for the evening. While they knocked on the door anyway, nobody answered.

"Guess she and Nat are out at the moment," Nick noted. He looked over at the others. Everyone looked pretty tired - or at least on-edge. "How about we call it a night? I'll go back to my office and see if I can find any information on that device we got off Kellogg. You guys rest up and we'll regroup here tomorrow?"

Nobody could really object to the idea. As much as Abby wanted to chat with Piper, she liked the concept of going to the Dugout Inn to get drinks and a private room to unwind in. It was agreed, the group splitting apart for the evening. Dogmeat trailed behind Nick, though Abby didn't stop him. The two were adorable together, after all. She wondered if all animals reacted to synths in that manner, or if Nick was just a special case.

She headed to the inn, Hancock and Mercy trailing behind her. Both of them seemed agitated, most likely from having to walk around with so much cover. They looked more like hikers preparing to journey up a snow-covered mountain than mere pedestrians just making their way through the city. A part of her almost wanted to start trouble just to challenge anyone in town arrogant enough to try and kick them out for what they were, but she didn't have the energy or the courage to fight with the guards. It wasn't that she feared the guards themselves, but rather the attention that such a commotion would garner. Such a display wouldn't cheer her friends up anyway. She could only hope that perhaps alcohol would do the trick.

The three entered the Dugout Inn, settling down at the bar. Vadim greeted them, not seeming overly curious about the fact that not only was Hancock still wearing his face covering from a week or two ago, but that he now had a companion who was doing the same. Abby was starting to suspect that the bartender wasn't quite as ignorant as he appeared. If it was true that the only way to get the tarberries that were used in his drinks was to barter with the Slog, then he probably wasn't the type to care even if her friends were out of disguise. Still, he wasn't the only person in the bar - it was better to ere on the side of caution.

"Good to see you again!" he exclaimed. "You want the tarberry drink, yes?" Abby grinned, trying not to feel odd about how predictable she could be.

"Yes, please! Extra large this time?" she requested enthusiastically.

"Someone's lookin' to get sloshed," Hancock commented next to her.

"I'll be more careful this time," she promised. The last thing she needed was to get completely shit-faced in front of company, after all.

"And for the gentlemen?" Vadim asked.

"Just a beer," Hancock requested.

The group looked over at Mercy, waiting for him to order. When he didn't respond, Abby tried to get his attention.

"We got the tab - it's on us?" she informed him. Mercy snapped out of his daze.

"Oh... Uh… bourbon,” he replied. Vadim nodded, retreating to the back to get some tarberries for Abby's drink.

"You alright, doc?" Hancock asked. "You seem a little out of it."

Mercy nodded. "Yeah, just tired," he replied. His demeanor made Abby feel even more grateful that she had managed to convince him not to walk back to Goodneighbor. If he was this spaced out, journeying alone through a war-zone at night wasn't the best idea. She wanted to lecture him about pushing himself too hard, but she knew it would be hypocritical of her to do so.

Vadim returned a moment later, mixing Abby's drink and serving a beer and bourbon to the other two. After paying their tab, the three slipped off to one of the rooms. Vadim didn't protest one bit this time, certainly adding more volume to Abby's suspicions.

Once the door to their room had been closed, Hancock and Mercy shed their disguises, depositing everything onto the floor. Abby didn't pester them about their mistreatment of her garments. Instead, she silently gathered up the scarf, hat, and surgeon's mask, piling them neatly on top of the bed.

Mercy plopped down in an armchair while Abby and Hancock shared the couch. Things were rather quiet for the most part, Abby trying to ensure that she didn’t drink her hurricane too quickly this time around. Mercy took out a cigar, lighting it. Hancock seemed to get the same idea, grabbing a cigarette out of his coat pocket. Abby felt a little out of place, not being the smoking type, but she always did enjoy the scent of tobacco. There was something about the second hand smoke that relaxed her far more than directly inhaling the stuff. She couldn't explain it, but nobody ever seemed to complain - so long as she kept a lighter on-hand for anyone who needed one.

After about ten minutes or so had passed, Hancock broke the silence. "Ya know, Mercy’s pretty good at mixin’ drinks,” he pointed out. “We should go up to the Slog sometime. Get him to make ya something with tarberry in it.”

Mercy seemed less agitated, now that he was reclined with a glass of bourbon. He simply nodded, acknowledging that he was at least aware of Hancock’s words. Apart from that, he appeared to be lost in thought.

Hancock popped a few Mentats into his mouth, chasing them with beer. Abby truly wished Mercy were paying more attention – she wasn’t certain that Mentats and alcohol were a good combination and would have felt better if the doctor at least seemed to give it his general approval.

“Hey, you know what sounds amazing right now?” Hancock asked. “Noodles!”

“You haven’t even broken the Jet out yet and you’re already getting the munchies?” Mercy asked. Okay, maybe he _was_ paying more attention than Abby had given him credit for. After all, it was rather hard to tell where his eyes were fixated behind his aviators - especially given the room's low lighting.

“I’m gonna go get some – you game?” Hancock asked. Abby shook her head. She had just gotten comfortable and still had quite a bit of her drink left. The hell was she going to let the ice in it melt while she was off arguing with the defective Protectron that operated the noodle stand. Finding a bar in the wasteland that had ice wasn't easy, after all.

“I think I'll just stay here…. though bring me back some?” she requested.

“Sure thing, Sunshine,” he grinned, kissing the top of her head before getting up. He walked over to the bed, re-equipping the scarf and heading out the door.

After a few minutes of silence, it occurred to Abby that she was now completely alone with Mercy. She hadn’t really had many opportunities like this, even back at the Fort Hagan Red Rocket. There were certain questions she had on her mind, but she didn't previously know who to ask. Sure, she could have asked Hancock, but she didn't want to get his hopes up. She still wanted to take things slow, even if she was curious about how a more physical relationship between them would work. It would have been funny - how she feared asking intimate questions of a man that she shared a bed with - if it weren't so sad.

But here was Mercy - someone who surely would be able to satisfy her curiosity. He seemed rather quiet and reserved, enough so that she was still embarrassed to ask him, but the emptier her glass became, the more her courage seemed to increase. She scooted over to the edge of the couch, looking back at the door a couple of times before speaking up.

“Um… Mercy…?” she barely squeaked above a whisper.

The ghoul looked over at her, cigar smoke trailing out of his mouth as he slowly exhaled.

“Mmmm?” came the reply. She couldn't quite tell if she was bothering him. His expression was difficult to read.

“Can I…. Um…. Maybe…. Ask you something….?” she wondered nervously.

“Sure,” he answered. His tone seemed casual enough - or at least it didn't give off the tinge of annoyance that had plagued it earlier that evening. Abby continued to look over at the door every so often. She finally got up, pushing the couch a little closer to Mercy’s chair, much to his confusion. She sat back down, feeling a little more at ease about being able to lower her voice. She really didn't want any neighboring guests to overhear her, after all.

“Um… okay, so…. You’re a doctor… and… um... well, a ghoul. And…. Uh… so… I-I was wondering…. “ she babbled, cheeks blushing brightly as she struggled to think of how to best articulate what she wanted to say. She almost considered breaking into the chem stash that Hancock had left in her supply bag, just for the extra bit of calm her nerves so desperately desired. That would no doubt prove disastrous at best, however, so she took a breath instead, trying to verbalize her thoughts before she had a chance to change her mind altogether. “Do ghouls…. I mean…. let's say a smoothskin was…. _really_ close to a ghoul. Like… super close? And wanted to…. you know…." she awkwardly explained, looping her thumb and index finger in one hand while she drove a finger from her other hand through the loop in a crude and obvious gesture. "How would I... I mean she... I mean... they? Go about taking Rad-X? I mean, how much should be taken? Would it be before or after… you know…..? Or would it need to be ground up and administered vaginally? Or would that cause a yeast infection? Or…. Well, I mean, let me back up – would a ghoul even still have a penis? I mean, assuming they had one before they became a ghoul...?"

Her face felt warm as blood rushed to it, her mind racing to backtrack on certain phrases. This was ridiculous - it wasn't as though she hadn't had sex before! Even prior to Nate, she had a couple of intimate relationships. And hell - she had even given birth for fuck's sake! Talking about that aspect of her life with a doctor wasn't anything new, so why was it still so nerve-racking for her?

Mercy stared at her in silence a little longer than she was comfortable with. He placed his cigar in the ashtray next to the chair. He then removed his aviators for a moment, revealing an expression of surprise instead of one of judgement. He rubbed his eyes, placing the glasses back.

“First, deep breaths?” he requested. Abby felt another wave of embarrassment wash over her, but nodded, trying to control her breathing. Mercy gave her a small smile, folding his hands in his lap as he straightened up in his chair. “Okay, so… one point at a time. Yes, most of us still have those bits attached,” he answered. Abby felt her entire face light up like a Christmas tree. She wasn’t sure which embarrassed her more – that she had managed to ask that question or that she had just received an answer. “Second, that Pip Boy has a Geiger counter, right?” Abby nodded, looking down at the device. “Good. Check it frequently to make sure your radiation levels are okay. Rad-X before intercourse, Radaway after. No need to take it any differently than prescribed.”

Abby fidgeted, but smiled slightly. “I… I can do that…” she murmured. Mercy was taking her seriously, his initial surprise of the topic having passed. She was glad that he didn't simply shrug off her inquiries or act as though they were inappropriate or unnecessary. 

“Any other questions?” he asked, tone calm and patient. Abby still felt awkward asking, but now was the best time to get what she could answered.

“Do I need to worry about hurting him?” she wondered, not even attempting to conceal the context this time around - as though it weren't already painfully obvious that she was asking about herself and Hancock. “I mean… he seems so…. squishy.”

“Ghouls are more resilient than they look,” he informed her. “You should be fine. Just communicate with him."

Abby sipped at her drink, wondering how realistic the idea of communicating with Hancock about such things would be. She was still uncertain about whether or not she wanted to be intimate with him in that way. A part of her desired it, sure, but another part was hesitant - almost frightened. What if she wasn't experienced enough for him? She saw the people he normally was into. They appeared confident and attractive and had no qualms taking whatever chems he offered them. She couldn't exactly compete with that. Even if she could, the lingering thought that she was somehow being unfaithful to Nate wouldn't leave her mind. She could wait, of course - it wasn't as though it was something she desperately needed. The closeness of snuggling, just being there together was enough for her - but was it enough for him? She wished it was a question that Mercy could answer, but she figured that fell outside the scope of physician responsibilities.

“Thank you… “ she murmured into the glass, at least wanting to express her gratitude for his answers. She was met with silence. She looked up from her drink to see Mercy staring off - or at least it appeared that way. The aviators still made it difficult to tell where he was looking. She waved a hand in front of his eyes, getting his attention.

"Oh... um... sorry...." he muttered, snapping out of it. "Was just... thinking about something. Did you have any other questions?" Abby smiled.

"No... though maybe you should get some sleep," she decided, reaching for her bag. "I think I have enough caps to cover another room..."

"You really don't have to do that," Mercy frowned. Abby shook her head.

"I'm the one who talked you into staying in Diamond City. It's the least I can do," she explained. "Plus, I feel like I should be paying you for medical advice?"

Mercy shook his head, but didn't verbally object. He looked more amused than anything else as he leaned back in his chair, finishing the glass of bourbon.

A knock at the door interrupted Abby's search for caps. She got up, answering it. Hancock stood on the opposite side, arms full of stacked noodle bowls.

"Shit, did you buy out the entire stand?" she questioned, helping him in.

"Apparently 'that's enough' means 'yes, give me more' to that bucket of bolts," Hancock grumbled. Abby giggled, taking some of the noodle bowls and setting them on the coffee table.

"Well, least we won't go hungry," Mercy mused.

"Hey, is it just me, or did the couch move while I was gone?" Hancock questioned.

"Just you," Mercy quipped without missing a beat. 

"I'll go get more drinks!" Abby decided, taking off for the bar. She returned a few minutes later with more bourbon, beer, and - of course - another tarberry hurricane. The three of them began to devour the noodle bowls, this time carrying on conversations. Hancock broke out the Jet, becoming more talkative as the evening dragged on. Mercy stuck to just liquor and cigars, though even he seemed less tense than before. After downing her second drink, Abby felt incredibly tipsy, though she had at least paced herself well enough to not black out like the previous time. She ended up snuggling on the couch with Hancock, not particularly caring anymore whether it made anyone else uncomfortable. Fortunately, Mercy didn't seem to mind. He stretched out in the armchair, looking on the verge of sleep.

"So, Mercy...?" Abby wondered idly as she laid back, head in Hancock's lap as she stared up at the ceiling. Hancock already appeared to be passed out, his hat slumped over his eyes as he quietly sat with his head comfortably positioned against the back couch cushion.

"Mmmm...?" Mercy answered.

"You're from the pre-war days, right...?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"What do you miss about those days?" she questioned. Mercy was quiet for a moment, almost causing Abby to worry that she had asked the wrong thing. "I mean..." she filled the silence, "I just... wonder sometimes what other people miss about them. For me? I really miss hot baths... oh God - hot baths with bath salts? And good coffee! Not that irradiated shit they serve everywhere."

"I forget what decent coffee tasted like," came a response. "But I know I miss it. And ice cream..."

"Shit - yes, ice cream!" she grinned. "Especially the kind that had those chunks of cookie dough stuck in it?"

"And mint chocolate chip," he added. "Air conditioning... motorcycles... having skin..." he continued. Abby winced at the latter.

"Is it really that bad...?" she wondered. "Not having skin, I mean...."

Mercy looked over at Hancock, seeming to take note of the fact he was out cold. He quietly reached into a pocket that was sewn inside his suspenders, taking out a worn photograph. He reached out, passing it over to Abby. She inspected the picture quietly. It was a group photo of some people dressed up in pre-war army attire.

"My old platoon," he explained. "I'm the third one on the right."

She continued to study the photo, feeling saddened as she looked at the figure he had pointed out. His expression appeared so happy back then. She wanted to ask about the other people around him - what their names had been, where they were now - but she was afraid of the answer. Instead, she simply forced an unconvincing smile as she handed the photo back to him.

"You were cute," she mused, not realizing how it came across until she had already blurted it out. "I mean... not that you're not now... I mean, you are, but um...!"

Mercy smiled sadly, glancing at the picture for a brief moment before placing it back in his pocket. "Thanks," he replied, interrupting Abby's panicked babbles. He at least seemed to understand that she had meant well by the comment. More silence passed, a disheartened sensation festering inside of her. The pre-war ghouls she knew and cared about had lost so much. Sure, she had her world ripped away from her as well, but to trudge on for over two hundred years with those memories? How heavy that must have weighed on their hearts, to go so long with simply the memories of those they left behind.

"Mercy...?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Someday.... after we find Shaun...? If we visit the Slog, could you maybe mix some of those tarberry drinks for me...?" she wondered.

Mercy leaned back in the chair, smiling quietly. "Sure," he answered. Abby closed her eyes, getting comfortable. She focused on happier thoughts, of journeying to a place filled with tarberries and people who were as nice as Mercy. Maybe it wasn't a resort getaway on an exotic beach, but at that moment? It sounded close enough to paradise for her to dream on.


	20. Friendship and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Skizoh](http://skizoh.tumblr.com)]

This was the second time Abby had visited Piper's office. For some reason, the place looked even messier than before. Documents were strewn about, notes jotted down in random places. Somehow, she pictured that this was how most reporters lived - buried in papers and ink smudges. It just seemed much more disorganized given how much dirt was on the floor. Still, the place had a roof and walls, making it better than most homes in the Commonwealth.

Piper's little sister, Nat, watched the group quietly from the staircase, listening in on what the adults were discussing. Abby wasn't certain if she felt comfortable having a kid overhear the situation. Then again, growing up in a world like this? Most children probably weren't strangers to violence, as much as she hated to think about it.

Hancock leaned against the nearby fridge, taking a chem break while Mercy sat on the opposite end of the couch from Abby, smoking. It was mostly Nick and Piper who were engaged in conversation. A small gray tabby cat had darted into the office when the group had entered earlier. While the first reaction from everyone had been to chase it out, Abby happily seized the opportunity to have something to keep her mind at ease. The animal was quite docile, curling up in her lap and kneading its paws on her coat. The purrs were very calming to Abby - her own version of huffing Jet or puffing on a cigarette.

Piper paced back and forth as she spoke, Nick having caught her up on the events of Fort Hagen. "The Institute... hoo boy," she remarked. "I've been investigating these creeps for over a year now. Nobody knows how to get in. This guy, though - the one who just handed them Shaun? He has to know how, right?

"Yeah, about that," Nick frowned. "Afraid he's dead." Abby averted her gaze, trying to appear more interested in petting the bundle of fur she had lumped in her lap.

"He made it clear he wasn't going to help us either way," she murmured, shrinking into the couch.

"Well," Nick admitted, "I knew the moment I read his file that he wasn't gonna go quietly."

Piper sighed. "Great, so... he got his brains blown out by an avenging parent. It'd be a terrific ending if we still didn't have the biggest mystery in the Commonwealth to solve."

"Doesn't matter what he knew," Abby interjected, just the slightest hint of venom in her tone, "If I had to do it all over again? I'd still kill the bastard. I'd just make sure he begged the second time around."

Piper stared at her as though she couldn't believe someone like Abby was capable of saying something that aggressive. "Damn, Blue..."

Nick didn't reply, prompting Abby to glance over at him. He stood there, a disapproving expression on his face that caused her heart to sink.

"Bastard got what was comin' to him," Hancock spoke up, defending her actions. He winked at her, signaling that he had her back on this argument. She turned her head to examine Mercy, curious as to his thoughts on the matter. He was starring at her, brow raised in surprise.

"Well," the doctor noted, smirking a little and relaxing his forehead after her words sank in, "If you ever do get a second chance? Try not to get so shot up. There's only so many bullet-holes you can take before looking like a human-shaped block of swiss."

Abby's cheeks turned red as she buried her face against the cat. Louder purring erupted from the cuddly bundle, helping to ease her anxiety - even if just a small amount. She hated how Piper and Nick seemed to judge her - especially Nick. Her father used to give her the same expression when she was in trouble. At least her old man had the decency to lecture her, though - receiving the cold shoulder just made her feel even worse. She would have normally laughed at Mercy's comment, but it was difficult for her to find the humor in anything when she felt so guilty over what others thought of her.

"To be fair, it's not like I was _trying_ to get shot prior to showing up in Goodneighbor..." she mumbled. Mercy let out a small laugh - something that was unexpected to her. As odd as it seemed, hearing him laugh made her feel a little better. Hancock wandered over, sitting on the arm of the couch and nudging her gently, a reassuring smile on his face. Well, at least the ghouls in the room didn't seem to judge her harshly over her choice.

Nick reached into his pocket, pulling out the strange device that he had found in Kellogg's head.

"What's that thing?" Piper wondered.

"You mentioned his brains.... got me to thinking," he noted, turning it around in his hand. "We may not need the man at all."

"You... wanna clarify for us?" Piper asked.

"There's a place in Goodneighbor - the Memory Den?" Nick explained. "Lets you relive the past moments in your mind as clear as the day they happened. If anyone could scrape a memory off of this implant, it'd be Doctor Amari, the mind behind the memories."

"And... you really think that hunk of metal is gonna actually be enough?" Hancock spoke up.

"Well, either that, or we could go back to Fort Hagen with a really sharp ice cream scoop," Nick mused.

"Jesus, Nick - Gross! Seriously?!" Piper gagged. Abby let out a quiet snort of laughter. At least Nick still kept his sense of humor about him.

"Well... what are we waiting for, then?" Abby asked.

"I've got some business I need to take care of before I go," Nick informed her. "I'll meet you at the Memory Den."

Abby glanced over at Piper questionably.

"Yeah.... whether we're riding this crazy brain train or not, we can't all go running across the Commonwealth," Piper noted. "While you guys are out, I'm gonna do some more research."

Abby wondered if their hesitance to travel with her had something to do with her earlier comment. She looked up at the stairs, Nat crouched on the bottom step, eyes wide. Shit - she had completely forgotten the kid was listening in. No wonder Piper was staying put.

"Okay.... I guess we'll head out, then..." Abby decided. She silently lamented the fact that it would be impractical to carry the cat around Boston with her - the little ball of fuzz was quite literally the only thing keeping her from breaking down at the moment. At least just being with Hancock and Mercy for awhile wouldn't be so bad - or so she hoped.

\---

Downtown Boston seemed to only get worse every time Abby journeyed between Diamond City and Goodneighbor. Sure, she had only run into a behemoth just the one time, but that didn't make the travel situation any easier. The roads were always changing - raiders, gunners, Super Mutants, and ferals all fighting over the same territory. Trying to get from one point to another the same way as before was made nearly impossible as a result.

It didn't help that her mind was elsewhere, still dwelling on Nick and Piper's reactions from earlier. How dare they judge her anyway? Did they even know what the hell it felt like to come face to face with the man who murdered their spouse? She highly doubted it. She hated to presume, but she was too emotional to do much other than silently brood over the incident.

Hancock walked alongside her, smiling the few times she had glanced over at him. He didn't say anything, but seemed to be waiting it out - letting her do what she needed and simply being there for when she decided to vent. Mercy stayed quiet as well, but it was hard to gauge his thoughts from behind the aviators. She had never given any previous thought as to how much she relied on one's eyes to decipher tone and emotions until she had met Mercy. What she wouldn't give for an easy way to tell what kind of mood he was in.

A barricade could be seen in the distance, prompting her to mentally sigh. She hated detours, and Boston was full of them.

"Whatcha think - raiders?" Hancock asked.

"Looks like it," Mercy replied.

"There's a way around, c'mon," Hancock told them, gesturing to follow. Nobody argued with the idea of taking a different route. While all three of them were fully armed with weapons, the prospect of having to fight through the giant mess known as downtown Boston wasn't on anyone's list of desired activities for that day. He led them down an alleyway, popping out on the other side. As they turned the corner, they were greeted by a disturbingly large blood bag.

"Shit..." Hancock managed to hiss before the sound of gunshots drowned out his voice.

"Puny humans!" a Super Mutant shouted out nearby. Abby ducked back into the alley for cover, prepared to take pot-shots at anything that came around the corner. She expected her two companions to do the same, but felt ill as she watched Mercy run in the direction of the mutants, shotgun in hand.

"Mercy - what the hell?!" she called out. Hancock quickly followed the doctor's lead, rushing into the fray. Her hands shook, making it difficult to aim her rifle. The two were standing between her and the mutants - what if she missed and hit one of them instead? She held off firing, watching as blood splattered about the street. She knew Hancock could handle himself in a fight, but hadn't been sure about the doctor. She was somewhat relieved to see that he was also fully capable of holding his own in a fight.

She wondered whether she should get closer to make it easier to get an angle on their enemies. She certainly had the element of surprise at this point, everyone paying more attention to the ghouls than to her. She crept along the side of the building, pausing every so often to see if she could get a good shot in.

Out of nowhere, a repetitive beeping sound began to fill the air, growing louder with each passing moment. She scanned her surroundings for the source, finally spotting a Super Mutant rushing towards the group with a mini nuke attached to its arm. She tried to keep her wits about her, aiming her rifle at the bomb. She couldn't afford to miss.

"Shit!" Mercy hissed, grabbing Hancock by the back of his coat and pulling him in the opposite direction of the suicider. "Abby, c'mon!"

"I've got this!" she called back.

"It's too close!" he argued, grabbing hold of her arm and trying to pull her along. Abby jerked back.

"I said I've got this!" she barked angrily. She tried steadying her aim again before realizing that Mercy had been right - perhaps if she had been faster at taking the shot, she could have pulled it off, but now the mutant was close enough that triggering the nuke risked catching them up in the blast.

Before she had a chance to admit her mistake, she felt herself being hoisted into the air. Her view bounced along as Mercy ran, having thrown her over his shoulder. Hancock kept up his pace, not arguing with the escape plan as he ran alongside. The device went off, the force of the explosion knocking them forward. Abby felt her skin grate against the concrete as she landed roughly on the ground, her hat flying off. She sat up, nothing appearing to be broken. She was sore and knew she was going to wake up to a colorful array of bruises later, but given the injuries she had accrued in the past? This was nothing. She surveyed the area around her, spotting her friends nearby. They were both lying on the street, though they were at least moving. She bolted over to them.

"I'm sorry - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...!" she profusely apologized, kneeling down between the two. "Are you okay?! Did anything get broken?! Can you move?! I'm so sorry...!" she babbled.

Hancock got up, a few scrapes oozing. His tricorn had been blown off during the incident, but he didn't seem to be badly injured.

"S'okay, Sunshine - just some scratches," he told her.

Mercy groaned as he sat up, placing a hand on the back of his head. Blood trickled down from where he touched it. Abby silently worried whether or not it was serious - his red cap possibly concealing just how bad the injury was.

"Are _you_  alright?" he asked her, not answering the question of his own condition.

"I th-think so...?" she replied, shaking. Mercy's hand slid down to his face, causing him to realize that his aviators were no longer equipped.

"Shit...!" he hissed, looking around. A string of more curses followed as he searched for where they landed. He appeared to be rather panicked over what seemed like a minor concern to Abby. Shouldn't he be more worried about the fact he was bleeding?

"They're over here, doc," Hancock called out, walking over to where his hat had ended up. The glasses were next to it, fortunately not broken - if a bit scuffed up. Mercy quickly scrambled to get up, staggering a little. Hancock passed him the aviators.

"Thanks," Mercy sighed, immediately equipping them. Abby stayed where she was, knelt on the ground and trembling. Hancock walked over to her, helping her up.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked her. Abby shook her head, tears easily falling as she leaned into him. He placed his arms around her, giving her a gentle hug.

"I... I almost got us killed....!" she sniffled. "I'm so sorry... If I hadn't hesitated... I'm so sorry...!" she continued to repeat.

"It's alright, Sunshine," Hancock attempted to console her. "We're alive - everything's okay."

"I hate to break this up, but we shouldn't linger unless we're eager to meet the friends of those mutants?" Mercy suggested. Hancock nodded. He reached down, grabbing Abby's hat and securing it on her head. The poor thing wasn't going to be much more than strips of cloth by the time she got it back to Kent at this rate.

The three collected their weapons, quickly scooping up anything of use before trudging ahead. They navigated through a maze of buildings, making an effort to reach Goodneighbor without further incident. Hancock kept his arm around Abby as they walked, though she couldn't help but be worried for Mercy. The blood trickling down the back of his head was troublesome. She knew he was a doctor, fully capable of telling whether or not it was something to be concerned about, but she couldn't silence the voice in the back of her mind that fed her worst case scenarios.

"Mercy... are you sure you're okay...?" she asked finally asked.

"I'm fine," he replied a little more quickly than Abby cared for.

"You're bleeding..." she pointed out.

"I'm _fine_ ," he repeated. It was hard to gauge his tone. Was that annoyance in his voice, or was it just her imagination? Was he angry at her for what had happened?

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," she tried to explain. "I really thought I had it under control..."

"Don't worry about it," came the blunt response. Abby stopped walking, causing Hancock to jerk to a halt.

"Sunshine...?" he asked, looking worried. Mercy took a few steps ahead of them before realizing they weren't following. He looked back at them, quietly waiting for them to continue along. Abby bit her bottom lip hard, trying to keep herself from a complete breakdown. Her emotions were a mess. Nick and Piper seemed unhappy with her and now Mercy was just shrugging her off? At least Hancock was more concerned than angry with her, but the fact remained - nobody had any right to judge her, especially after everything that had happened. She was crushed. She was terrified. She was furious.

"You know," she spoke up, voice quivering, "you can be mad at me all you want, but you - the both of you - went running in. I wouldn't have even had a problem shooting that nuke if you two had stayed back under cover and let me handle it-!"

Mercy shrugged, not seeming too bothered by her outburst. "It's how I was trained to fight," he informed her.

"So?!" she snapped back, losing the battle she had been fighting against her tears. "You two could have gotten killed! You're already scratched up and bleeding, and that's just because we lucked out! I'm a damn good aim, but it's hard to shoot worth shit when I'm too busy worrying about you guys...!"

"Look, I feel where you're coming from, but we had it under control," Hancock gently argued.

Abby threw her hands up, shaking her head. "Okay, yeah, just me, then. Sorry if I can't seem to not worry if the people I care about get hurt!" she practically yelled back, voice half-choked with sobs. More tears escaped past the corners of her eyes.

Mercy raised his brow, seemingly startled by the outburst. "Nobody's faulting you for what happened," he tried to calmly re-assure her.

"Oh yeah?" she snorted, "then why do you keep shrugging me off when I ask about your injury?! You're a doctor, sure, but I'm just supposed to ignore that you're bleeding...?!"

Mercy sighed, glancing over with uncertainty at Hancock before directing his attention back to Abby.

"Look... I'm fine," he said, keeping his voice lowered. "Please don't push it...? It's not because I'm mad at you - I'm really okay."

Abby didn't believe his words. How could she? Claiming he was okay when he hadn't even removed that hat of his to check on where the blood was seeping from? How stupid did he think she was?

"Fine, whatever," she muttered, trudging on ahead. She didn't look back at her friends as she continued in the direction of Goodneighbor. She was used to people brushing her off, but this felt different. This _hurt_. These were people she trusted fully and completely. She wanted to find a quiet place away from everyone and everything, just to curl up and cry. No wonder Kellogg had been surprised she lasted this long in the Commonwealth - she felt no better than some bratty kid who was upset that they didn't get their way. She was starting to understand why her brother had quit caring about people. She didn't want to be like that - not at all - but it was hard when her heart felt like it was breaking into a thousand little pieces. If they weren't mad at her before, they probably were now that she had acted so hostile.

The glowing neon sign of Goodneighbor finally came into view. She headed in, not bothering to check if the other two were still following. She was glad to see a familiar face as she entered the town. Daisy stood at the counter to her store, smiling sincerely as she saw her. Abby made a bee-line for the shop, not uttering a sound as Daisy greeted her with a hug.

"How're ya doin', sweetheart?" Daisy asked her. Abby's only response was to hug the ghoul even tighter, quivering as she tried in vain not to cry. Daisy patted her on the back. "What happened?" she asked, tone louder than Abby had expected. Her curiousity was fulfilled as a voice replied from behind.

"Just a fun lil run-in with Super Mutants," Hancock explained.

"Didn't think somethin' like that would bother ya?" Daisy noted softly to Abby, brushing strands of hair out of the smoothskin's face. Abby shook her head, pulling out of the hug and looking around for some place to sit down. She felt as though she had fucked everything up, and having Daisy think less of her for freaking out really wasn't something she could handle.

"Mind if I clean up in the back?" Mercy asked. Daisy nodded, gesturing behind her.

"Go right ahead - just check it for radroaches - had a couple get in last week."

"..... Noted." Mercy replied, not sounding thrilled at the prospect of dealing with giant insects. He headed to the back of the store, climbing the staircase and disappearing from view. Hancock walked over to where Abby had taken a seat, kneeling down next to her.

"You okay, Sunshine?" he asked, expression tainted with concern. Abby shook her head.

"To be honest? Not really," she admitted somberly, pulling off her hat. Having to explain to Kent how she had managed to practically destroy the memorabilia was just another item to add to her list of frustrating shit to deal with.

"Wanna go somewhere more private?" he wondered. He didn't sound angry at her, in spite of her earlier outburst. She fidgeted, finally nodding.

"Yeah... lemme just tell Mercy bye," she decided. She figured they would go their separate ways now that they were back at Goodneighbor. She only hoped that he wasn't mad at her. She wasn't leaving him with the best impression, but she found that she cared quite a bit about him. If she could maybe just give him a genuine apology before departing, maybe things would blow over by the time she got a chance to visit the Slog. She hadn't lied about wanting to travel there someday, after all.

She got up, leaving her hat behind as she made her way up the stairs to the second floor of the store. She knocked against the wall as she got further along, not wanting to walk in on him if he was washing up. She noticed a trash can nearby, bloodied bandages piled on top. They looked very fresh, enough so that she was instantly unnerved by the sight.

"Mercy....?!" she asked, looking around the corner. He sat in a chair next to a bucket that was filled with water. His hat was sitting on the floor nearby as he finished washing the injury. Abby couldn't help but let out a gasp, the scene in front of her being more than a little unsettling. A large portion of skin was missing from the back of his head - metal plate covering most of the exposed skull. Blood seeped from the wound, making it look even worse than it probably was.

Mercy looked up in surprise as he heard the gasp, frowning as he quickly snatched up his hat, pulling it over the injury before he even bothered to apply fresh bandages.

"Go back to the front, Abby," he ordered her, tone inflecting more panic than anger. Abby didn't listen, walking over to him.

"Did... did that happen because of the explosion....?" she asked, fretting if it had been her fault. Mercy shook his head.

"No... it just re-opened an old injury is all," he explained to her. "It happens from time to time... don't worry about it."

"Do you need help....? I can- I can get the bandages in place...?" she offered. Mercy looked apprehensive, staring at her as he seemed to evaluate whether or not to agree to the help.

"You're not going let it drop until I agree, are you?" he asked. Abby fidgeted with her ring, not answering the question directly.

"Please let me help...?" she murmured nervously. Mercy sighed, removing his cap. The wound appeared even more grotesque up close. She tried not to look repulsed by it, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm. She picked up the clean bandages he had placed nearby, being as careful as possible as she wrapped the injury.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he replied.

"One of those things where pushing isn't going to give me an answer?" she wondered.

"I'd rather not talk about it," came the same response. Abby made a face, but didn't press any further. She finished bandaging the wound, stepping back and letting Mercy place his hat over her work.

"Thanks," he told her, getting up from the chair.

"I'm sorry if I got mad earlier," she apologized, voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I was worried. I dunno... I don't like yelling at my friends, but you guys scared the shit out of me..."

Mercy paused for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"Friends...?" he inquired.

"Yeah, you and Hancock," she explained. "I mean... Hancock and I are a little more than _just_ that, but still..." she blushed.

Mercy was quiet, enough so that Abby fretted that she had somehow succeeded in screwing something else up. Her anxieties were relieved as he shook his head, snorting a small laugh before smiling at her. It was perhaps the most genuine smile she had seen from him thus far. He reached over, ruffling her tangled mess of hair before walking away. Abby stayed put, feeling confused. Mercy paused a few feet away.

"Friend? Me?" he asked over his shoulder. "You have a hell of a way to pick them, Abby."

He moved along, turning the corner. Abby wasn't sure if that had been a compliment or an insult, but the way he had smiled at her somehow brightened the gloom hanging over her mind. She didn't know his story - what he had experienced in his unnaturally-long life - but she could gather enough bits and pieces to guess that it wasn't entirely pleasant. A smile from him - a real one, not one that was simply faked to get a person off of one's back - made her feel warm inside. She snapped out of her daze, quickly descending back to the storefront.

Mercy was in the middle of thanking Daisy for the use of her facilities. He looked over at Hancock, who was sitting nearby, idly sucking on a Mentat.

"Mind if we talk for a moment in private, Mayor?" he asked. Hancock shrugged, getting up.

"Sure," he replied. "Be with ya in a moment, Sunshine," he told Abby before walking off with the doctor. Abby wasn't certain if she needed to be concerned over the two vanishing like that, but she didn't overthink it, opting instead to go over in her mind what she had witnessed upstairs. After a few minutes passed, Daisy began to chat with her, filling the awkward silence. As distracted as Abby felt, it was a pleasure to catch up with the old shopkeeper. Daisy informed her that Goodneighbor had, surprisingly enough, been on its best behavior while Hancock was away. Fahrenheit had kept everyone in line rather effectively. Abby still felt guilty about how intimidated she was by the bodyguard, but she was glad to know that the woman was willing and able to take care of things in Hancock's absence.

After awhile, the guys returned to Daisy's shop. Hancock had an amused smirk on his face. Mercy seemed rather humored as well, or at least enough that he didn't seem unhappy. A small ghoul wearing coveralls splattered with paint, a hat that looked like a sheep sitting on her head, came running up to the store, grinning. Mercy's face fell into a quiet, neutral expression.

"What'd you break this time, Trish?" he asked. The girl shook her head, bouncing a little in place.

"Nothing! But you got some people from the Slog at the Third Rail looking for ya! Said they've been worried."

"That figures," Mercy sighed. He looked back over at Abby and Hancock. "Well, guess I'd better head down there. It'll be nice to get back to the clinic anyway."

Abby frowned. "Will you be okay... getting back to the Slog, I mean...?" she wondered.

"I won't be walking back alone, if that's what you're asking," Mercy reassured her. "Sounds like I'll have company."

"I'll go, too!" Trish volunteered. Mercy shook his head, but didn't appear opposed to the idea. Abby stared quietly at the short ghoul girl, wondering how many caps she could make if it were only possible to bottle her energy. Trish seemed to notice Abby looking at her, suddenly ducking a little behind the side of Daisy's counter.

"Uh... hi...." she murmured shyly in greeting. Abby smiled at her, waving quietly. She had seen the girl every so often around Goodneighbor, but had never stopped to talk to her. Hancock tugged at Abby's arm.

"C'mon, let's get outta here before you end up adopting another family member," he noted. Abby blinked at him, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Adopting....?"

"Yeah - you seem to collect people. Not really the best hobby. Might wanna stick to comics," he grinned. Abby was confused by the comment, but decided to ask later.

"Well, guess I'll see you two some other time - hopefully without needing to patch up bullet wounds?" Mercy mused. Abby ducked her head, smiling awkwardly.

"I'll try to be more careful," she assured him. Without thinking, she pulled him into a hug. It was her usual way of greeting or telling people goodbye. She hadn't really considered how uncomfortable it would make someone like Mercy - especially after his reaction to her calling him a 'friend'. His body stiffened in response, strongly implying that her action had not been the best of ideas. Still, he gave her a small hug in return, not verbalizing any issues. She pulled out of the hug faster than usual, fidgeting as she stood there.

"I... I hope I didn't..." she started to babble. Mercy shrugged, giving her a small smile.

"Don't worry about it - just remember to breathe more, okay?" he told her. Abby blushed, but smirked at the remark. She couldn't necessarily argue - it was true that she needed to find a better way to calm down.

Hancock wrapped his arm around her, leading her toward the Old State House. She hated saying goodbye to friends, but she silently hoped it wouldn't be the last time they crossed paths.

\--

Hancock shut the doors to his lounge, locking them to ensure that they wouldn't be disturbed. Abby had already settled down on one of the couches. She was feeling better than earlier, but her mind still kept wandering on her. Hancock plopped down next to her, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and placing his arm around her. Abby snuggled up against him, placing her head in his lap, a calm sensation falling over her. This felt right.

"Lemme know if you want somethin' to help ya relax," Hancock offered. Abby snorted softly.

"I'm good," she replied. "Don't think chems would do much for me right now, other than make me sleep harder."

He took a Mentat tin out of his pocket, placing one of the small pills on his tongue and letting it dissolve.

"John...?" she wondered, "What did you mean by 'adopting another family member'....?"

Hancock grinned, shaking his head. "You probably don't realize it, but there's a lot of people lookin' out for ya," he explained. "Somethin' about you draws 'em in - makes 'em protective."

"I'm not sure I understand," she frowned.

"Well, take Daisy, for instance," he told her. "She's made it clear to everyone in Goodneighbor that if they fuck with you? They'd better have a lot of caps if they wanna buy stuff from her - and that's assuming she'll even sell to 'em anymore. Or Kenny-boy - I guess you did the adopting more in his case. Daisy said he hasn't shut up about ya since you left - like a kid braggin' about his amazing big sis."

Abby blushed, unable to help but smile.

"Any other examples...?" she wondered.

"Well, there's me," he grinned, waggling his brow at her, "But that's turned out a little different - not that I'm complainin'. Though on that note, there's the list of folk who've made it clear that they'll gut me if I ever hurt ya."

Abby looked up at Hancock curiously. "Well, that sounds like something Neal would say," she admitted, "but who else is on that list?"

"Well, let's see..." Hancock hummed, "Daisy should be obvious - KL-E-O threw in her lot around the same time, though implied death threats are pretty standard for her. Nick's made himself clear on it, and I have a feeling Piper would if she caught me alone for more than five minutes. And then a little while ago, the Doc..."

She wasn't certain how to feel about the idea that so many people were protective of her like that. It was flattering, but she wasn't exactly a fragile porcelain doll.

"Doc?  Mercy threatened you?" she questioned.

"Yeah - said I'd better treat ya right if I know what's good for me," he laughed. "He didn't really have to say much more - dude's fucking scary with a knife."

Abby wasn't sure if that was the most reassuring mental image, but she found herself appreciating the sentiment.

"So, what - I have two big brothers now?" she smiled in amusement.

"Well... the Doc's more the 'scary uncle' type, if I had to pin him for anything," he noted. Abby giggled, shaking her head and settling it back down in his lap.

"I worry about him, you know?" she confessed. "Do you know what his story is...?"

Hancock shrugged. "Nope, and I don't bother askin'. He's made it clear that he don't appreciate people pokin' their noses - or lack thereof - into his business. Can't say I blame him - we've all got skeletons in the closet we'd rather keep hidden."

"And what're the ones in your closet?" she couldn't help but ask. Hancock popped another Mentat in his mouth, thinking quietly.

"You really sure you wanna see that side of me?" he wondered.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't," she pointed out. He sighed, brushing fingers through her hair.

"Ask me some other time," he requested. "Been too long of a day."

The fact that he refused to answer her immediately did sting, but she tried not to take it personally. There were things she hadn't discussed with him yet, after all.

"Fair enough," she replied, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of having her hair stroked. The silence was relaxing, causing her to almost doze off. She was roused by the sound of Hancock's voice as he spoke again.

"Sunshine...?" he asked. Abby hummed to let him know that she was still conscious. "Can I ask you to do me a solid?"

"Maybe," she mumbled, only feeling somewhat coherent.

"Well... you got upset because we rushed in like we did, but what you did with Kellogg? I admire ya for having the balls to take him on by yourself, but if I promise to be more careful, can I get the same from you?"

Abby thought about it for a moment before replying.

"I'll try," she murmured. "I don't know what's gonna happen... what we'll find if we figure out how to get into the Institute... but I'll try."

"That's all I ask for," he told her softly. He shifted, gently budging Abby toward the edge of the couch until he was comfortably stretched out behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her against him. Everything about it - the way he pressed against her, held her, the sensation of his breath warming the back of her neck - it just felt right. She wondered if it was odd that even in this bliss, her mind still lingered around those who were elsewhere. She only hoped that those she considered to be friends and family - whether or not they were of blood relation - could find a little slice of happiness in their lives that compared to this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Okay, that's the last chapter with Mercy for awhile - seriously, follow [Vectober](http://vectober.tumblr.com) \- her characters are amazing! Thankyou for sticking with me - I appreciate every comment and kudo! And please make sure to check out the first chapter of Neal's story - [Bullets and Brulee](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5845324)!))


	21. The Memory Den

The Memory Den was a curious place.  While Abby had darkened its doorway many times already, she had yet to take advantage of its true purpose.  The concept was appealing - reliving one's memories in vivid detail.  She could think of several instances she wanted to re-visit.  Strangely enough, a good portion of them took place over the past few months. In spite of all the pain she had experienced since waking up in Vault 111, there were too many events that were also dear to her heart.  Hancock's hand brushing against hers for the first time, Piper joking around while giving Abby a tour of Diamond City, the expression of concern on Nick's face after Kellogg had been killed - these memories were sometimes bittersweet, but they constantly occupied her mind as she drifted to sleep each night.  Even though only a day had passed, she knew very well that the image of Mercy smiling would now join those images she held so fondly.

Nick hadn't arrived yet, a fact that troubled Abby.  Was he still preoccupied with something?  Angry at her?  Injured en-route to Goodneighbor?  She didn't verbalize her concerns, but Hancock seemed to sense that something was amiss.  

"Hey, Irma - how about hookin' her up to one of the memory loungers?" he suggested. Irma smiled.

"Well, we tend to keep our clientele list rather small, but anything for you, sugar," she winked at Hancock.  Abby knew this was just how Irma was, but she couldn't help but feel a tad jealous. 

"I've... never used one of these before," Abby confessed.  "What exactly do I need to do?"

"Well, first we need a memory to track down," Irma explained.  "Like anything worth doing in life, honey, it's got a kick to it.  The first time can be... traumatic.  It's why we try to start you off with something simple."

"Define 'simple'?" Abby asked.

"Well, memories involving other people are easiest," Irma informed her.  "Recent events involving loved ones.  Does anything come to mind?"

Abby smiled, shaking her head.  Where would she even start?  

"I... don't really know what to pick," she murmured.  "There are so many I would love to see again..."

"Take your time," Irma told her.  "In all my time doing this, nothing stands out like love and family."

Abby blushed as she considered which memory she would rather go with.  Would it be considered hurtful to Hancock for her to pick something regarding Nate?  There were several that she missed - many of them growing fuzzier with each passing day.  

"I... well... my husband passed away," she told Irma.  "It's been at least ten years, though I'm not sure if it's the same since I wasn't conscious for most of that time..."

Irma frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder.  "Oh that's awful - I'm so sorry, sweetheart!  But I think we can help you!"

Abby forced a smile, not looking over at Hancock.  She worried about his thoughts on her decision, but it wasn't as though he would have to see the memory... right?"

Irma led her over to one of the loungers, getting her settled and hooked up.  The top of the lounger lowered, sealing Abby inside.  She couldn't help but feel slightly claustrophobic given the similarities between this device and the cryogen pod from Vault 111.  Hancock walked up and stood next to the lounger, smiling at her through the glass.  For some reason, it calmed her to know he was there - especially since he didn't seem upset over her subject choice for the memory.

"Doctor Amari!" Irma called out, "We have a new client - can you find a memory we can plug her into?"

"What kind of memory are we looking for?" came a reply.

"She lost her husband.  Look for a memory about him."

"All right," the voice called out again.  "Scanning the hippocampus..."

The lounger made a soft buzzing noise that slightly alarmed Abby.  

"I've found something!" Dr. Amari announced.  "Very recent - the sync with the temporal lobe is strong."

"That's the one!" Irma replied.  "Lift the curtain, honey - it's show-time!"

Everything became a blur, making Abby wonder if something had gone wrong.  Was she passing out?  Her head felt strange, eyes unable to focus.  After a few brief moments, everything started to un-cloud around her.  Her heart sank into her stomach.  She was back in Vault 111.

  ---

Hancock knew that it would be a violation of privacy to watch Dr. Amari's screen during Abby's memory session.  He had visited the Memory Den on enough occasions to be aware of how the process worked.  It was always slightly awkward to be around Dr. Amari, given how she had seen a side of him that very few knew about.  It couldn't be helped - in order for the sessions to work, she had to constantly monitor everything, including the memory itself.  

At first, he simply stood by the lounger, not even bothering to look at Abby's screen.  He knew how draining the first time could be.  He had no doubt that she could handle it, but couldn't help but feel a little concerned.  This was messing with her brain, after all.  He kept his gaze on her, noticing how her pupils dilated once the process began.  He had never watched someone get their memory scanned before, only ever having been on the receiving end.  

Suddenly, Abby began to shake in her chair.  She didn't move otherwise, but something didn't feel right.  Her breathing sped up.  He looked over at Amani, who was frowning at the screen.

"This is your memory.  Just relax - we'll be monitoring your vitals on this end," she informed her client.  Irma leaned over the control panel, frowning as she watched. 

"Her blood pressure's going through the roof," he could hear her observing in a lowered voice.  He couldn't help it - he had to know what was going on.  He walked over to the console, watching the events playing out across the screen.   Was that a vault?   _Oh shit_...

"It should have been me... why didn't they take me...?" Abby's voice could be heard over the speakers. In the waking world, she remained silent - her thoughts being projected across the memory viewer.  

"Get her out of there!" Hancock ordered.  Amani shook her head.

"I can't - if I pull her out before it's finished, it could have negative side-effects," she explained.  Hancock frowned.  There was fuck he could do, other than just watch and wait.  

He recognized Kellogg as he appeared in Abby's view.  Two other people were there - Institute, no doubt.  The lid to Nate's pod opened, an infant tucked in his arms.

"Oh God.... Nate... I can't watch this again...!" Abby choked out.  "Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!"

  The struggle ensued between Nate and the Institute woman over the child before the sound of Kellogg's gunshot echoed throughout the vault. Hancock had played out the scenario in his head several times, trying to guess what exactly had occurred in there.  All he had known was that Kellogg killed Abby's husband and stole her baby.  It wasn't quite the way he had pictured it, but it was disturbing none-the-less.  

"Oh my God...." Amani whispered under her breath as she watched the screen.  Hancock found himself fidgeting with his knife.  He had witnessed more than his fair share of horrors in the Commonwealth, but going after some helpless pre-war vault resident and his kid?  There was no sport in that - Kellogg had been nothing more than a coward.

The image on the monitor began to fade.  

"We're reaching the end of the memory," Amani explained. Hancock nodded, walking back over to Abby's lounger.  "Hold on - try to calm down... your blood pressure is spiking,  I'll have you out of there in three.... two... one..."

Abby inhaled sharply, her pupils returning to normal.  Tears poured out of her eyes as she shakily looked around.  Hancock didn't hesitate.  The moment the lid to the lounger opened, he threw his arms around her.

"It's okay - I'm here," he whispered to her.  She clung to him, not saying a word - simply breathing raggedly.  He helped her out of the pod, keeping her held close.  

"Easy there, sweetheart, easy..." Irma tried to gently console.  "I'm so sorry - if I had any idea that we ere gonna put you through that again, I would have said no."

"Wasn't.... wasn't there any other memory you could have found....?" Abby asked, voice trembling.  

"I told you, we find the clearest memory we can for the first time," Irma explained.  "That one stood out."

Hancock frowned at the two ladies.  He knew it wasn't necessarily their fault, though - how could they have known?  If anything, the guilt was on him for encouraging Abby to give the process a try in the first place.  

"Come on," he gently whispered to her. "Let's get outta here."

  ---

Abby had to question Hancock's choice in retreat locations.  The Third Rail wasn't exactly her ideal place to escape when she was feeling stressed.  She didn't argue, however, curious to see what he had in mind.  

As they entered, Hancock approached the waitress - a small ghoul woman with strings of brown hair hanging down one side of her head.  

"Hey, Mags - private room today," he told her.  The waitress smiled, nodding and gesturing for the two to follow.  

They were led past a door, into a small room adorned with a couple of couches, chairs, and a coffee table.  Unopened containers of chems were neatly laid out.  The lighting in the room was low with a warm glow to it.  Hancock motioned for Abby to take a seat.  She plopped down on one of the couches, finding the arrangement to be rather comfortable.  

"Your usual, Mayor?" the waitress asked.  

"Yeah," Hancock answered, "And see if Charlie can whip up something with tarberry in it for the lady."

The woman nodded, departing and closing the door behind her.  

"So, I'm just 'the lady' now?" Abby asked. Hancock frowned, sitting down next to her.

"C'mon, Sunshine, don't start pickin' apart everything I say..." he sighed.  She smiled, snuggling up against him.

"I'm only partially teasing," she told him. "Though I have the feeling I'm not the first person to join you here for a drink..."

Hancock wrapped an arm around her.  "Yeah, but you're the first that matters," he murmured to her.  Abby knew she shouldn't let that kind of talk flatter her, but she couldn't help it - he certainly had been gifted with a silver tongue.  She didn't reply, simply reveling in the calm comfort that the room seemed to provide.  Magnolia could be heard singing in the bar, the sound muffled by the walls.  

"John...?" she began to ask.  

"Mmmm?" he hummed back.  

"I...."

Abby's words were interrupted as the door opened, the waitress having returned with their drinks.  Whatever Hancock had ordered, it smelled strong enough that Abby could detect it from where she was sitting.  Her own drink didn't help matters much, the fumes almost giving her a headache.

"Will there be anything else?" the waitress asked, cheerfully.  Hancock looked over at Abby, coaxing her to try the drink.  She stared at the glass, wondering if it would be anything close to what she had at the Dugout Inn.  She picked it up, carefully sipping at it, before sputtering and coughing, the drink partially spilling onto her lap.  

"S-shit...!" she choked, "What's in this...?  Battery acid....?!"  

Hancock couldn't seem to help but laugh, reaching over and taking the drink from her hand.  "Knowing Charlie, that may not be too far off," he noted, sniffing at it.  He took a sip, shrugging.  "Well, seems fine to me."

Abby shook her head, still coughing.  "Just... Nuka Cola Cherry, please....?" she asked the waitress.  The girl gave her a sympathetic smile, nodding.  

"Yes, miss, right away!" she told her before disappearing back into the bar.  Abby gagged, the taste still burning in her mouth.    

"Next time I run into the Doc, I'll ask him to teach Charlie a thing or two about makin' those drinks," he chuckled, downing the glass easily enough.   

"God - do you have like a lead stomach?" she wondered.  He grinned, placing down the now empty glass and reaching over for his own drink.    

"You get used to it," he told her, knocking it back.  The waitress returned, not even a few minutes later, a Nuka Cola bottle in hand.  Abby thanked her, immediately using the drink to wash out the taste of the alcohol.  Hancock took a handful of caps from his pocket, passing them over to the waitress.  "Extra's for you, Mags," he told her.  The girl smiled genuinely, thanking him softly before leaving the two alone.  

"She seems sweet," Abby mused.  Hancock nodded.

"Yeah - that's Maggie.  She's been workin' here for awhile now.  Real sweetheart - hard worker, too."

She hummed, sipping at her drink.  Hancock shifted in his seat, getting a little more comfortable.

"But... that's not what you really wanna talk about, is it...?" he asked.  Abby stared down at the bottle in her hand, shrugging.

"You probably wanna know what happened in there..." she replied softly.  Hancock shook his head.

"I saw most of it," he confessed.  "Didn't mean to watch, but I got worried."

Abby's cheeks blushed brightly.  "I didn't realize... so everyone was able to see...?" she wondered.  

"Well... just me, Irma, and Amani," he re-assured her.  "Kent never came out of his room - probably too busy fixin' that hat of yours."

She turned the bottle around, running fingers along the Nuka Cola label.  "I wish you hadn't seen that," she murmured. 

"To be honest?" he admitted, "I'm glad I did."  She looked over at him in surprise.  "I mean... look - you never talk about what happened back at the Vault, but anyone coulda guessed.  Knowing you had to witness that?  Everything kinda clicks together.  What happened to Kellogg, why you seem so bent on doing things by yourself..."

"Nate... meant a lot to me," she muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "I know he's not coming back... and I kept my promise to him.  But I still... what you saw?  I see it all the time.  Most nights, I can't seem to avoid it..."

"I believe it," he replied. "Shit like that'll haunt ya."

".... and what haunts you...?" she couldn't help but ask.  Hancock placed his arms behind his head as he reclined. 

"The faces of all the ghouls McDonough killed," he answered.  Abby leaned forward, setting her drink on the table.

"I'm sensing a story behind that?" she asked.  Hancock nodded.

"Ya know... Before my brother took over?  Diamond City was a half-decent place to live  A little stricter than I usually go for, but not terrible."

"Took over...?" Abby wondered.  "What... are you saying McDonough's your....?"

"Brother?  Ooooh yeah," he shook his head.  "Grew up together in a little shack on the waterfront.  Guy was the standard big brother - entitled, punchy, liked to shove rotten tatoes down my shirt and slap my back?"

"I... guess I lucked out in the big brother department..." she mused with a small smile.  Hancock snorted a laugh.

"Well... takin' up with Malone's gang seems tame by comparison," he admitted.  "I never thought my brother would be capable of something like what he did to those ghouls..."

"I know he kicked them out of Diamond City, but I take it there's more to it than that?" she wondered.

"Yeah... one day, just out of nowhere - he decided he's gonna try and get elected with this anti-ghoul crusade.  "Mankind for McDonough" he called it.  Before ya knew it, we had families with kids linin' up to drag folks they called 'neighbor' out of their homes to throw 'em to the ruins.  There'd always been a pretty big gulf between the folks living in the stands and folks down on the field.  He ran on an anti-ghoul campaign because he thought enough of those upper-stands assholes would vote for him.  Guess he was right."

"Shit..." Abby cursed under her breath.  "That's horrible...!"

"I remember storming into his office above the stands, after the inauguration speech," he reminisced.  "He was just standin' there, staring out the window, watching as the city turned on the ghouls.  He didn't even look at me.  Just said: 'I did it, John.  It's finally mine.'  I shoulda killed 'im right there, but I don't think it would have changed anything. Instead, I pleaded with him... begged him to call it off.  He said he couldn't.  He had nothin' against the ghouls - he was just carrying out 'the will of the people' and he 'couldn't betray the voters'," he growled, making quotations with his fingers as he mocked his brother's words.

"Two-hundred years and politics hasn't changed, I see..." she sighed.

"And then?" he continued, "Then he smiled... this hideous fucking mile-long smile.  He never smiled like that when we were kids.  I didn't even recognize him."

"Didn't recognize him...?" she pondered.  "You... You don't think... I mean, Piper's article....?" she wondered.  Hancock shrugged.

"I dunno.  When I first heard the rumors, thinkin' back on that night?  I thought it made a lot of sense.  But now?  I'm not sure if I buy it.  There's no way the Institute copied him _that_  perfectly.  Even got his tightass walk."

Abby gave a pained smile.  The comment amused her, but the tragedy of the story overshadowed any humor that would have come from it.

"But after that?  I just needed to get the hell away from him and that whole damned city," he explained.  "I still wasn't a ghoul at that point, so I didn't _have_  to leave, but I couldn't bring myself to stay in that cesspool after that.  You know the kid you met yesterday?  Trish?  She used come into town to trade all the time. Not sure how she got back inside - maybe she just slipped in during all the chaos? But I was stocking up on some supplies on the way out and found her at one of the stores with a shotgun pointed at her face. That hat she wears?  She'd been talking about saving up for it for weeks. Apparently she finally managed to scrape together enough caps to buy it, but didn't exactly get the memo that her kind weren't welcome there no more.  I got her out of there safely, but damn... was hard having to explain why someone that sweet wasn't allowed in while assholes were allowed to stay there just 'cause they had a smooth set of skin."

"Oh God... that poor girl....!" she cringed.  She now understood Hancock's earlier comment about adopting the kid.  If she hadn't already taken off with Mercy for the Slog, Abby would have been hard pressed not to go find her just so she could give her a hug after hearing all of that.

 "Yeah... she was already livin' in Goodneighbor at the time, but it was still a shitty deal. And I had been sneakin' off there for years to get decent chems, so I knew the safe routes.  I managed to track down a couple of the families, lead 'em there, but most couldn't get used to the Goodneighbor lifestyle.  I brought them food for a couple of weeks, but after awhile, they just disappeared.  Some headed up to the Slog, but the rest?  I don't even wanna think about it.  Folks in Diamond City signed their death warrants and all the good people were willing to just sit by and watch."

"Shit..." she whispered, reaching over and taking his hand in hers.  "I had no idea, John..."

"Well, it's not like you really could have known," he pointed out.  "I'm just sayin'.... I know what it's like.  Difference is, you _couldn't_  do anything about your situation.  I had a choice..."

Abby fell quiet, not really certain how to respond to that.  She didn't blame him for what had happened, but she knew it had to be quite the weight to carry with him. 

"So how... how do you deal with it?  When it starts to haunt you...?" she wondered.

"To be honest?" he asked.  He fished around in his pocket, pulling out an inhaler of Jet.  

"Doesn't seem to be the most constructive way to handle one's emotions," she lectured.  Hancock shrugged.

"Maybe not, but sometimes?  You just gotta go for awhile without feelin' anything, ya dig?"

Abby considered it quietly.  "I don't wanna get hooked on that stuff," she made clear.  "But right now... forgetting what happened in the Memory Den would be nice... so long as I'm forgetting it with you, I guess..."

Hancock smiled sadly, getting out another inhaler and passing it over. "Never trip alone," he told her. 

Abby held the container in her hand, turning it around and examining it quietly.  All she truly wanted was just be free from her fear and past pain - free to focus on the here and now.  She didn't want chems to become a crutch she depended on, but to be able to go just one night without caring?  Was a little too appealing at the moment.  She took the inhaler, placing it in her mouth and breathing in, filling her lungs with the sickeningly sweet drug.  The calm sensation washed over her, providing instant gratification.  Truthfully, she wished she could always feel this way, even if she knew it wasn't good for her.

At first she simply lounged there with Hancock, listening to the music playing in the bar.  The relaxation added to her courage as she leaned over, kissing him firmly on his lips.  The motion seemed to catch him off-guard at first, taking a moment to register before he began to kiss back.  Instead of pulling away, she deepened it - an action that seemed to get quite the response out of her partner.  A low growl escaped his throat as he started to nibble on her lower lip, licking and sucking as hands started to wander.  

She slid her hands under his frock, attempting to pull it off of him.  He shifted, mouth next to her ear as he murmured to her, "You sure you wanna do this?"

Abby didn't feel so high on Jet that her senses felt completely inhibited. "I've never been so sure of anything in my life," she whispered back. Hancock reached into his pocket, removing a dose of Rad-X.

"If you're sure," he told her, pressing it into her palm.  Abby smiled, stretching out to grab the remainder of her Nuka Cola to chase the medication with.  After placing the empty bottle on the table, Hancock helped her remove his frock, fingers working to free him from the rest of the clothing.  

"You change your mind, just say the word," he let her know.  The fact that he was showing his entire self to her before they got any further resonated with her.  He didn't have to say it - he was trying to ensure that she wasn't going to get too far and then decide the ugly wasn't worth it.  Too bad for him, then, that seeing him in that state - exposed, scars visible - only made her want to hold him all the more.  She kissed up and down his body, as though she believed for a moment that she was capable of kissing away all the pain that had caused him to look the way he did now.  Groans of appreciation told her that he certainly didn't mind.  The more she lavished attention upon him, the more desperate he seemed for her to part with her own garments.  Before things became too heated, she began to undo the buttons on her shirt.

"C'mon... that's part of the fun..." he quietly protested.  She shook her head, simply smirking.

"I'm not taking my outfit to Kent in the morning and explaining to him that he now has to fix the whole thing because someone got impatient," she informed him.  Hancock sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch as he let out a groan of frustration.  

Once she ensured that her outer clothes were safely discarded, she attempted to remove her bra.  She didn't get very far before being pounced upon by an overly-eager ghoul.  To be fair, her undergarments weren't part of the outfit, though part of her wanted to lecture him about how difficult it was to go bra-shopping in the Wasteland.  She truly hoped nothing had gotten torn as he tossed it aside, showering kisses on her breasts and traveling up to her neck.  He was surprisingly gentle - more so than she would have guessed.  Was he going easy on her, she wondered?

"I'm not made of glass, you know," she murmured as he sucked on her neck.  He growled, biting down.  It wasn't something she was necessarily used to, but whether it was because it was a new sensation or because of the Jet, it managed to do something to her.  She inhaled deeply, wanting more.  Instead, Hancock seemed to have other things in mind as he kissed down her body, finally lingering between her thighs.  She had made a point to view the encounters she had with him as 'different' - not really 'better' or 'worse' than her previous lovers.  After all, each experience she had in the past was dear to her - even the ones that had ended in hurt feelings and contempt.  But truthfully?  Well, she had admired his silver tongue before in the way he managed to talk circles around her heart.  Now she loved it for entirely different reasons.  If she tried to claim that this was no better than her past experiences, she would most definitely be lying.  She gripped the sides of the couch, arching her back in response to the sensation.  

"Shit, John...!" she managed to hiss in-between breaths.  He pulled away, looking over at her.  "Don't....!" she protested.

"Don't what?" he asked, a coy grin on his face.

"Don't stop...!" she groaned. He let out a snort of laughter, not leaving her to linger for very long before picking back up where he had left off.  Abby reached over, feeling around the coffee table, hand finally brushing across another container of Jet. She quickly grabbed it, wanting this moment to last as long as possible.  The air felt heavier as she inhaled the canister, letting it fall to the ground after it was depleted.  Every pleasurable sensation was amplified, making it difficult for her to imagine experiencing sex without Jet.  Was this what she had been missing out on?

Hancock shifted, straddling her hips as he pressed himself against her.  Everything happened in slow motion while the drug's effects stretched on.  The coarse texture inside of her felt amazing, his pace steady yet rough.  She arched her hips to move in time with his.  Leathery hands moved up her thighs, gripping her back tightly, low growls escaping his throat.  

"Damn..." he muttered under his breath, easing up for a moment.  Abby wanted him to go faster, not slow down.  She looked at his face, realizing he was staring at her, eyes wide.

"Wh-what's wrong...?" she managed to exhale.  His expression relaxed, a warm smile spreading across his lips.  He shifted to where he could whisper into her ear.

"You should see just how beautiful you are right now..."

Abby didn't think her heart could beat any faster than it already had been.  Hearing those words proved her wrong.  She slipped a leg around his hips, pulling him tightly against her.

"I said don't stop...!" she whispered back with a smirk.  Hancock laughed, picking up the pace.  She tried to keep herself from making too much noise - certainly not wanting to be heard by the patrons in the next room - but he was making it difficult.  She was so close, but needed more.  She reached down, one hand slipping between them with an almost unbridled want.  Rough fingers brushed hers aside, giving her exactly what she had in mind.  The motion pushed her over the edge, prompting her to cry out his name.  So much for subtly.  Hearing her only seemed to motivate him further, thrusts becoming erratic.  He buried his face against her neck, letting out a muffled moan of release.

Nobody seemed to pay them any mind, the music still playing uninterrupted nearby.  The only other sound that could be heard was that of their own heavy breathing.  Hancock shifted, stretching out and grabbing some Rad-Away from the table.

"Take this," he reminded her, not really waiting for her to fully recover from the experience.  She knew it was important, not arguing as she followed his orders.  

"Fuck..." she exhaled as she let her head fall back onto the couch.  "That was... was that you or the Jet...?" she wondered.

"Good question," he hummed, stretching out next to her and wrapping his arms securely around her middle before kissing the top of her head.  "Guess you'll have to find out later, hmm?"

She giggled softly, getting comfortable.  Normally she would have worried about whether or not someone would walk in on them, or whether they had the private room secured for the entire night, but enough Jet still lingered inside of her that her cares were easily discarded.  

"I love you, John..." she whispered sleepily.  It took a moment before the reply came, but it was something she would never forget - even after she had sobered up.  

"I love you, too, my Sunshine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Pyrefangs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrefangs/profile) for helping me get past a writer's block on one part :D  
> Trish belongs to [SpacialKiwi](http://spacialkiwi.tumblr.com)  
> Maggie belongs to [MaggieTheGhoul](http://maggietheghoul.tumblr.com)


	22. Mind-Dive

If it were up to Abby, she would have remained all day in the private room at the Third Rail – snuggled lazily against Hancock and high on Jet. Unfortunately, even being the mayor's girlfriend couldn't afford her the luxury of shutting the world out completely. They returned to the Memory Den the next morning, waiting around to see if Nick would show. Kent had pulled an all-nighter to fix her hat – something she felt incredibly guilty about. Still, it was nice to have something to make her feel a little more concealed from the world again.

Irma and Amari seemed rather determined to make up for the previous day’s mishap. An offer was made to allow her a free memory viewing. This time, they would try to be more cautious on the selection. Abby was hesitant at first - she was still pretty shaken up over her experience, after all. When she considered it, however, she realized there were some people and memories that she felt safe seeking out.

“I want one of my brother, Neal,” she decided. “Back at least 225 years. Or fifteen years… however it works with lost time.”

The request would place her around age ten or younger. There was only one bad memory she could recall about Neal from around that time, and even that would be worlds better than seeing Nate murdered again.

She settled down in the memory lounger, taking in deep breaths as she tried to fight the small phobia that had started forming in the back of her mind towards the machine. Hancock stood nearby, giving what support he could. He had reminded her that she wasn’t obligated to give it another go, but this was something she wanted to prove to herself that she was capable of overcoming. She had given him permission to view her memory this time – it wasn’t as though she hadn’t already trusted him with far more important or private things.

Her grip on the armrests tightened as she felt the tingling sensation throughout her body. Her mind went fuzzy again. It was almost like using Jet, except it didn’t do anything to slow her heart rate or calm her anxiety. She watched as the world faded into view, silently praying that it wouldn’t be the night her father had kicked Neal out of the house for good.

She felt relief as the scene placed her in the kitchen of her old Salem home. It was surreal to see her brother standing in front of her. He was somewhere around fifteen – his skin smooth and his hair full and lovely. He kept it tied back even back then, but it looked nothing like the stringy mess it was in the current day and age.

He hummed a tune as he moved throughout the kitchen – a song she recognized as being popular at the time. He seemed so happy… those days, he had been ignorant of just how cruel the world could be. Even the turmoil that occurred during the pre-war years had yet to filter into his everyday life. He was still just a kid, worried about the things a kid should worry about. What a curious thing - how only a few years would change all of that.

He opened a can of chickpeas, draining the water out and placing the contents into a bowl. He began to do the same with a few other cans. Tiny hands reached up over the counter, taking a fistful of the legumes.

“Abby….” he lectured without turning around. There was no reply – simply the sound of munching. He looked over his shoulder at the small girl. Abby had seen pictures of herself as a child, but it was strange how the memory viewer let her see herself in a way she never had before. Was this what she truly had looked like, or simply her mind’s interpretation of her appearance? Either way, the mess of curly red hair hid most of the child’s features.

“More?” the girl asked, reaching back up. Neal shook his head, walking over and moving the bowl out of reach.

“If you eat them all, I won’t have anything left to cook with,” he informed her. She gave a small, adorable pout in response. “C’mon, Abby… if keep eating so many, you’re gonna turn into a chickpea.”

“Nuh-uh!” the child argued. A mischievous grin spread across her brother’s face.

“No, it’s true! They tell us all about it at school!” he lied. “First you start to turn orange… then your skin gets all tough and bumpy. Then your hair falls out! And you don’t wanna even know what happens to your nose…“

Abby found herself laughing at the irony of Neal’s words. She wondered if that meant she could tease him about turning into a chickpea, by his definition. Then again, it was hard to gage his humor on the subject these days. Still…

“I will not!” the little girl stomped her foot. Her brother kept up the act.

“What’s that? I think you’re getting a little orange behind the ears right now…. You sure they’re still attached to your head?” he asked, reaching over and giving her lobe a gentle tug. The little girl’s eyes widened before she burst into tears. Some things never changed. “Shit… no no no, don’t cry, kid – you’re fine – ears both there, see?” he tried to coax her into ceasing the waterworks. The panic on his face made Abby laugh all the more. He talked tough, but he truly was just a big dork. She really missed seeing this side of him…

He handed over the bowl of chickpeas, letting the child eat to her heart’s content. She recalled how, from that day forward, he had always referred to her as ‘Chickpea’. It had annoyed her for the longest time, but in retrospect she found it entirely endearing.

The scene started to fade away as the memory came to an end. She wiped a few tears from her eyes as the memory pod opened. Hancock looked concerned at first, but she simply shook her head and smiled. These were happy tears for the most part. There was a touch of sadness in them, if only for her concerns about what the future held for her brother. She looked around the room, noticing Nick standing nearby, Kellogg's implant in hand. The pleasant memory had been short lived – now it was time to see what that murderous bastard held so dear to his own heart.

\---

Abby had a difficult time focusing on the task before her. She was now inside of Kellogg's gray matter, via one of the memory loungers. Dr. Amari had wired the implant through Nick's brain in an effort to see what memories were left behind. Unfortunately, the encryption was too strong for a single mind. Abby had volunteered to try and assist in whatever way she could. Nick would act as the host for the implant while Abby attempted a sort of mind-dive.

What held her attention at bay wasn't the fact that she was back in a memory lounger. Rather, it was Nick's attitude during the process leading up to that moment. Instead of seeming angry at her for the exchange back in Diamond City, he appeared... reckless. Amari had warned him that there were risks involved in hooking the device up to his brain. Nick had simply shrugged it off, commenting that he was well past the warranty date anyway. It fit his sense of humor, but the line still troubled Abby's heart. She knew he had been discarded as trash by the Institute already - viewing himself as disposable made her hurt for him.

"There!" Amari's voice interrupted Abby's own thoughts. "This is the earliest intact memory I can find."

She could see a scene in front of her come into view. A child on a bed reading comics, his mother sitting nearby listening to the radio. Shaun? No, wait... it was Kellogg.

"Remember, you are experiencing these memories as Kellogg," Amari noted. "This may prove disorienting at first."

Abby watched the scene unfold, a man screaming from behind the door. No wonder Kellogg turned out the way he did with someone like that acting as a father figure. Suddenly, a chillingly familiar voice echoing in her mind.

"I think now she wanted me to kill him. I should have," the voice muttered. "Instead, I ended up running away."

She cringed, not liking the experience one bit. It was one thing to view his memories, but another thing to have his fucking voice in her head. She closed her eyes, trying to make it stop, but it wouldn't. More thoughts poured in, overpowering her own.

"I told myself I wanted to find somewhere out from under the thumb of the NCR and all their rules," the voice continued, "But really? I was running from the guilt of not protecting her from Dad. Doesn't matter now, though."

The scene faded, leaving her alone in darkness.

"What the fuck....!" Abby breathed raggedly.

"I told you," Amari reminded her, "This is you experiencing his memories the way he would experience them himself."

".... find the one that matters fast, then. I dunno how much more I can take of this," she shuddered. A light appeared just a little ways down the path.

"There appears to be another intact memory close to you in temporal sequence," Amari informed her.

"Yeah, okay," Abby sighed, walking towards the light. This time, the scene took place in a kitchen. Kellogg, now an adult, stood at the sink with a woman. The two were washing dishes together. A window was positioned above the sink, a view of the Golden Gate Bridge reflected outside of it. Abby smiled a little - something about the fact that it was still standing was comforting for some reason. She idly wondered what it would be like to visit California in this post-war era. She watched the two adults interact, talking about their life and the future. Was this Kellogg's wife?

"The thing about happiness is that you only know you had it when it's gone," Kellogg's voice spoke up again inside of her head. "I mean, you may think to yourself that you're happy, but you don't really believe it. You focus on the petty bullshit, or the next job, or whatever. It's only looking back, by comparison with what comes after, that you really understand that's what happiness felt like."

Abby frowned. She pondered his words quietly. To an extent, he was correct, and yet...

"I was the worst thing that ever happened to her," the voice continued as Abby's gaze fell on the woman standing next to Kellogg. "If she'd never met me, she'd have stayed in the Hub, maybe hooked up with someone who didn't kill people for a living. Probably been happier than she was with me. Almost certainly lived longer."

She felt close to tears. "What happened to her...?" she asked, her voice sounding strange, as though it were muffled behind something. The sound of a baby crying alerted her to the presence of a nearby crib she hadn't noticed previously. She walked over to the crib, examining the infant. The child's crying ceased as she looked up at Abby, a small smile forming. It was almost as though the baby was able to see her, even though she knew that couldn't be the case.

"He had a child...." she thought quietly to herself. She wouldn't have guessed it by a long-shot.

"Whatever made me think a guy like me should have a daughter..." the voice trailed off before continuing, "I never deserved her. Not for one second."

"What you did and didn't deserve wasn't for you to decide," Abby murmured softly. Her hand swept through the child, as though it were merely a hologram. The images around her faded to black, leaving her alone once more. Another path lit up, guiding her to the next memory. She continued, keeping her pace steady. She soon found herself in a hallway, Kellogg walking in front of her.

"How did you think this was going to end, Kellogg?" the voice over the speakers mused. "You thought you could just fuck with us, and we wouldn't fuck with you?"

The scene certainly was deja-vu to her. A parent, walking through a corridor, a voice mocking them over the speakers. Truly he had turned into the very monster that plagued this particular memory.

Kellogg's voice was silent as he made his way towards a door. Abby followed, chills running up and down her spine. She didn't like the feel of this place one bit.

"Just so you know," the voice continued, "they died like dogs. And you weren't there to help them."

The scene faded as Kellogg opened the door. Abby wrapped her arms around herself, feeling nauseated.

"You knew what it was like... you knew..." she murmured, seemingly to nobody. "Son of a bitch... you _knew_..."

The next couple of memories were almost a blur to Abby. She was aware of them - she even comprehended what Kellogg's voice told her about them. Making mercenary deals, meeting and working for the Institute - they were all important in his life, but she couldn't stop fuming long enough to care. He had his wife and child stolen from him, yet he had no issue inflicting the same pain upon someone else? She wished so badly that she could physically touch the images in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to place her hands around his neck and watch him choke to death.

Her rage became sidetracked as she entered a familiar scene. She was back in Vault 111, Kellogg and the scientists in front of her.

"No..." she choked back, shaking her head. "Not this again... please not again...!"

Her feet refused to budge, keeping her locked in place. She didn't want to know his thoughts on this one. She didn't need to witness it again. She tried to find her voice to call out for help - to beg Amari to disconnect her from the memory lounger. Unfortunately, all she could manage were a few choked whimpers as the scene unfolded before her eyes.

"I never knew why we didn't just refreeze the rest of them," the voice narrated, "but we had our orders. I guess the old man didn't want so many loose ends. Too bad he left alive the one person he shouldn't have."

"Why...?" Abby choked out, "Why was I left alive....?"

Her question remained unanswered as Kellogg looked over at her cryo pod.

"Even then, I knew it was a mistake leaving her alive," he continued. "I understood that kind of revenge, no one better. But I was cocky enough to assume I could handle some soft pre-war Vault dweller, even if she somehow got thawed out. At least I know those Institute bastards will soon get what's coming to them, too. If she could take me out, they won't be able to hide from her for long."

She tightened her fists, powering through the scene as best she could. At least she found something to agree with him on - she would make every one of those bastards pay for what they did to Nate. For what they did to _her_.

He approached Nate's pod, opening it and demanding Shaun. She didn't want to hear him anymore. She wanted desperately for him to shut up and never utter another word. Instead, the voice continued its observations.

"I'm glad I didn't have to kill the kid. I'm not saying I haven't done it, but I never like to." His words made her veins feel as though Psycho had been injected into them. He had killed kids before? Intentionally? Fucking coward. "But it was better this way," he confessed. "Better than taking his kid and leaving him alive."

"Asshole," Abby hissed. "If you had left him alive, maybe you wouldn't be a bloody smudge on the floor now."

She didn't know exactly who she was talking to. After all, these were simply his memories, right? No part of his consciousness existed in the implant... or did it? It didn't matter. She needed to vent to someone. Even if it was just an empty room she spoke to, it would do. The scene played out as usual, her heart sinking as she watched Nate die in front of her. The room turned dark, another light appearing in the distance. She was getting sick of this charade. She truly hoped she would find what was needed soon.

The room she entered was somewhat familiar. It was his house in Diamond City. It was a simple setup - a couch, a desk, a radio - but more importantly, a red-headed child sat on the floor looking through tech magazines. Abby found herself holding her breath as she approached him. She knelt down, getting a better look. He had her hair and freckles, sure, but those eyes - that nose - everything else about him certainly belonged to Nate.

"Shaun...?" she whispered, reaching out and touching nothing but air as her hand passed through the image.

"This appears to be a very recent memory," Amari informed her. "So... good news, I think!"

Abby didn't share Amari's optimism. She wasn't sure how to feel as she stared at the child. He wasn't a baby any longer - she had known this to be true. Seeing him older, though.... it was strange. Life wasn't going to be so simple, even if she did get him back. With everything he had seen and experienced in the past ten years... would he accept her as his mother? She couldn't be certain of the outcome, yet she knew that she just wanted to ensure that he was somewhere safe - even if ultimately he decided he didn't wish to have her in his life.

"It wasn't my idea to settle down with the kid in the middle of Diamond City," the voice explained. "I thought it was a terrible idea, actually. But it was one of the old man's pet projects, so here we were. Me and the kid, like a happy little family."

"You got to spend time with him... time I had robbed from me," she hissed under her breath.

"I ended up kind of liking it," he continued. "A reminder of what my life might have been if things had turned out differently. But there's no going back. I knew it was just temporary, and it would be back to normal business before too long. The whole setup was part of some elaborate plan of the old man's. Seems obvious now that we were bait for our friend from the Vault. The timing couldn't have been an accident. That's not how the old man works. I wonder if he outsmarted me in the end. Another loose end tied up."

The mention of the old man again? Abby wondered who it was Kellogg kept talking about. Was this old man in charge of the Institute, perhaps? The question remained unanswered as a flash appeared in the center of the room. A tall man dressed in black stood there. He looked like someone out of one of the big Hollywood action movies that she recalled seeing during the pre-war days. Kellogg immediately pointed his gun at the figure.

"It's okay," the man told him. Kellogg lowered his weapon, sneering.

"One of these days you're going to get your head blown off, just for barging in here like that," he grumbled.

Abby moved closer to get a better look at the man. Kellogg's thoughts told her exactly what she needed to know about him.

"The new breed of synths could easily pass as human," he noted. "Some of them did. But the coursers - they weren't built to blend in. They were killing machines, pure and simple. Smarter, stronger, and faster than almost any real human. I'm just glad they were always on my side."

"A courser..." she hummed. The man looked human enough, though his demeanor was rigid and cold. Still, it wasn't as though she hadn't met people like that before. She could think of a few places where he could easily hide in a crowd. None of them were spots she wanted to frequent, however.

"Minimizing my exposure to civilians is a priority," the courser informed Kellogg, taking a few steps forward.

"So what's the big crisis this time?" Kellogg inquired, standing up.

"New orders for you," he explained. "One of our scientists has left the Institute."

"Left as in...?" Kellogg asked.

"He's gone rogue," the courser stated bluntly. "Name's Doctor Brian Virgil. We know he's hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea. Here's his file."

"Wow," Kellogg whistled, flipping through the file. "Some heads are going to roll for this. Capture and return or just elimination?"

"Elimination," came the answer. "He was working on a highly classified program."

"No kidding. One of the top Bio-science boys? Damn," Kellogg shook his head, placing the file on his desk. "So... I guess you're taking the kid back with you."

"Affirmative. Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil." the courser noted.

"You're taking me home to my father?" the little boy asked. Abby had almost forgotten he was even there, as quiet as he had been.

"Yes. Stand next to me and hold still," the synth requested.

"Okay," the little boy stated simply, getting up and moving to the courser's side. The man easily towered over the child. It actually impressed her how Shaun showed no fear at all being next to someone so much larger and intimidating.

"X6-88, ready to Relay with Shaun," he announced, the recipient of the message nowhere in sight.

"Bye, Mr. Kellogg!" Shaun waved. "I hope I'll see you again sometime!"

"Bye," Kellogg replied softly, appearing almost disheartened as the child vanished into thin air along with the courser.

"Teleportation!" came Dr. Amari's exclamation. "Now it all makes sense! Nobody's found the entrance to the Institute because there _is_ no entrance! Let me pull you out of there. As soon as you're ready..."

Abby lingered for a moment, staring at Kellogg. His gaze was still focused on the spot where Shaun had disappeared. Did he truly care about the boy? Her heart jumped as his eyes shifted to where she was standing. A menacing smirk came across his face. No... it wasn't possible... could he _see_ her...?!

She didn't get a chance to find out. The world faded around her. She inhaled sharply as everything started to come back into focus. She coughed, her head feeling as though it was going to break open at any moment. Hancock was already at her side, handing her a glass of water.

"Easy there, Sunshine, I got ya," he murmured to her, rubbing gentle circles around her back. Abby wiped at her eyes, the tears more from the painful sensation and sudden sensitivity to light than anything else.

"Slow movements, okay?" Dr. Amari ordered her. "I don't know what kind of side effects the procedure might have had. No one's ever... done this before."

"Oh, that's re-assuring," Abby choked out before swallowing the last bit of water.

"How ya feel?" Hancock wondered. She appreciated his concern, but she was having to work hard to keep her tone from biting back. The pain was certainly bringing her mood down to a level that made it difficult not to respond irritably.

"Like... total shit," she sighed. "There's this... this burning feeling in my skull... like it's on fire..."

"That's not surprising," Amari informed her. "All the synapses in your brain have just been pulled apart, connected to someone else, and then pulled back together."

"... so, in other words, I've just been skull-fucked?" she questioned. Hancock grinned at the comment, helping her out of the chair.

"Well, if you're cognizant enough to joke, I think we can safely say that you're out of critical condition," Amari sighed. "Your neural and physiological readings have returned to normal. From a medical standpoint, at least, you're fine."

"But from a mental or emotional standpoint....?" Abby wondered.

"Well... I wouldn't be alarmed, but I honestly don't know what to look for," she replied. "As I said before, this is uncharted territory."

"Super..." Abby groaned, rubbing her temples. "You know, 'professional guinea pig' always was my backup in case law school didn't pan out."

Amari didn't look amused by Abby's comment, doing what she could to steer the discussion back on topic. "Are you... ready to talk about what happened in there?"

"What - you mean you didn't see it?" she frowned.

"Well, yes, we did, but it's important that we review everything together," Amari explained. "In case we miss anything."

Hancock led her over to a nearby couch, coaxing her to sit down. She didn't fight it, just finding herself glad to be out of the memory lounger.

"Well... I saw Kellogg's life, for one thing. The man who destroyed my family."

"That's right," Amari hummed, jotting down some notes. "He was a human being just like the rest of us, and he had reasons for being what he was - however cruel. How does that.... make you feel?"

"A lot better, actually," Abby retorted without hesitation. "I was starting to wonder if I made the wrong decision when splattered his brains everywhere. Now? The fucker _knew_ what it felt like to have a spouse and child stolen from him, yet he did it anyway. Hell's too good of a place for him."

Hancock rubbed her shoulder soothingly. Amari, on the other hand, simply looked dumbfounded by the comment. It took her a moment to re-organize her thoughts enough to respond.

"I... suppose I can't fault you for that...." she cleared her throat. "We're getting off-track. The important thing is that we discovered the Institute's greatest secret - teleportation!"

"That's great," Abby muttered. "Can we maybe talk about that when my head doesn't feel like someone's drilling a hole through it?"

Amari looked taken aback by her words, as though the concept of someone not being thrilled over the discovery was foreign to her. Hancock finally interjected.

"Look, doc, I know this is important shit. And really - I'm one hundred percent behind you in the whole 'figure out how to infiltrate the Institute' thing. But hasn't she had enough to think on for one day?"

Amari sighed, lowering her clipboard. "I suppose you're right," she considered. "Here, take a few stimpaks and go get some rest. I'll need to go over the data anyway."

"My head's not going to cave in, is it?" Abby asked.

"You should be fine. If it gets any worse, let me know immediately."

Abby nodded, feeling only somewhat coherent. She paused after standing up, a realization sinking in.

"Shit... where's Nick...?!" she wondered, looking around.

"He's waiting for you upstairs," Amari replied. "I removed the implant while you were waking up."

"I... would maybe wait and talk to him later, love," Hancock murmured to her. There was something about his tone and expression that worried Abby - more so than her normal anxieties.

"What's wrong...?" she asked, the lurking fear in her chest making her headache seem but a minor nuisance in comparison.

"He's fine, he's just... it's probably best you let him rest..." he tried to coax her. She frowned, quickly pulling away and darting upstairs. "Abby - wait!" she could hear Hancock call back after her. She hastened her steps, spotting Nick as she reached the top of the staircase. He was sitting on a bench near the entrance, looking lost in thought.

"Nick...?" she spoke up, getting his attention as she approached. His neutral expression shifted into an amused smirk. That smile... something about it was familiar, and not in a good way.

"Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head," he mused.

".... what....?!" she asked, her heart sinking as she started to fit the pieces together.

"Heh," he snorted, "I was right. Should've killed you when you were on ice."

".... Nick....?!" she asked shakily. This wasn't happening. This was just some bad dream she was going to wake up from. This wasn't happening...

Nick's expression faded into one of confusion. He blinked, his eyes returning to their normal glow. "What's wrong?" he asked, voice sounding its usual self.

"You... you sounded just... just like him...!" she squeaked out. "Just... just like Kellogg...!"

Hancock walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She reached up, placing her hand atop his. To say she was terrified was putting it lightly. No wonder he had told her to leave Nick alone for the moment.

"Did I...?" Nick asked, rubbing at his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. "Amari said there might be some 'mnemonic impressions' left over..."

"What... what does that mean...? Like... he's stuck in your head...?" she worried. Nick frowned.

"No, no... just a temporary side-effect. Don't worry, I'm fine."

Abby wasn't certain if she believed him. The idea of that evil bastard lingering in the mind of someone like him - someone she cared about - made her feel ill. The nauseated sensation returned.

"I... I think... I'm gonna throw up..." she murmured, taking deep breaths and trying to keep everything down.

"C'mon," Hancock told her softly, "Let's get you back to Amari - just to be safe. Then we'll make sure you get some rest, alright?"

"Want me to come with?" Nick asked. Abby didn't need a mirror to have an idea of how horrified she must have appeared. She could see it reflected in Nick's eyes, his face fallen in such a manner that her heart broke right where it had previously been festering in the pit of her stomach. "I get it," he noted. "Going through Kellogg's brain was a doozy for both of us. I'll check back in the morning, okay?"

There was so much Abby wanted to say to him. She wanted to grab hold of his arm, tell him not to leave, apologize for her reaction. She knew the only reason Kellogg had ever had any impression on his brain was all because he was simply trying to help her find Shaun. Yet, in spite of how guilty she felt, all she could manage was a silent nod in reply. Hancock bid the detective farewell before placing his arm around her shoulders and steering her back downstairs to Amari's examination room. Abby decided once she felt better, she would put forth the effort to make things up to Nick. She owed her friend - at the very least - that much.


	23. The Big Dig

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>  [image by [Skizoh](http://skizoh.tumblr.com)]

Abby's thoughts were weighed down with everything that had occurred over the past few days. She had returned to the Memory Den to discuss where to go next with Doctor Amari. The only clear path seemed to be to seek out the defected Institute scientist, Virgil, who was supposedly hiding in the Glowing Sea.

It wasn't a simple 'rescue and recovery' mission. The Glowing Sea earned its name due to its extremely high levels of radiation. How could anyone survive in a place like that? Abby wasn't certain if they were chasing a dead end. Even if they were able to get through that irradiated nightmare, there was no guarantee that Virgil was still alive.

The only thing that comforted her was the idea that Hancock and Nick wouldn't be impacted by the radiation levels. Hancock was a ghoul - radiation actually _healed_ him. And Nick? Well, the newer synth models were perhaps close enough to human to suffer the negative effects of radiation, but Doctor Amari seemed fairly confident that Nick's model would be resistant enough to power through the place.

Abby contemplated obtaining a hazmat suit.  She wasn't sure if it would be quite enough, but if she combined it with doses of Rad-X, maybe she could survive. With possible solutions came more obstacles, however. Where was she going to find an intact hazmat suit? And where had Nick disappeared to? She had tried to find him the morning after she had left him at the Memory Den, but he was nowhere to be found. He hadn't told Amari or Irma anything about where he was going, which caused Abby no shortage of distress.

"He probably just went back to Diamond City," Hancock suggested. Abby wasn't certain if that was necessarily any better. He had already seemed displeased with her to begin with, but the fact that their last interaction had ended with her reacting to him in fear?  It didn't settle well with her. She couldn't be blamed for responding the way she did to hearing the voice of her husband's killer through Nick's mouth, but that didn't necessarily ease her guilt. Nick was a friend - perhaps even something closer, like family. She hated herself for reacting in such a manner - justified or not.

Hancock tried his best to take her mind off of everything. The Third Rail was fairly empty during the early afternoon hours, making her feel a little more at ease about sitting at the bar instead of the private lounge. Hancock was attempting to talk Whitechapel Charlie through making a more palatable tarberry drink. While Abby appreciated the effort, hearing the ingredients that Hancock rattled off made her suspect that the end result would be disastrous at best.

"What're you tryin' to do, kill the girl?" an unfamiliar voice asked nearby. Abby looked over to see a ghoul woman sitting a few stools away from them. She had spent enough time in the town to know who Bobbi No-Nose was, but she never had the opportunity to exchange pleasantries with the woman prior to now.

"You'd be amazed what she can handle when she can get past the taste," Hancock retorted with a grin.

"All the fruit in the Commonwealth couldn't mask what you're puttin' in that," Bobbi noted. Abby smiled weakly, not arguing. The woman was merely expressing what had already passed through Abby's mind. It still didn't settle right with her, however, how all of Goodneighbor seemed to know that she couldn't easily handle alcohol.

Charlie pushed a glass over to Abby. The drink at least appeared to be the right color, but the smell was still quite off. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the worse. It didn't even take more than a sip for her to start sputtering and coughing.

"Told ya," Bobbi smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, No-Nose," Hancock replied, reaching over and rubbing Abby's back.

"S-sorry..." Abby murmured.

"S'alright - we'll get it right the next time around," he grinned. The concept of trying another experimental drink didn't quite settle well with her, but she forced a smile regardless. At least he tried.

"Oh shit..." a voice cursed behind them. She turned around, spotting a short, smoothskin man. His eyes were wide with fear as he stared at Hancock. "Uh... h-hey, Mayor..." the man continued to stammer as his presence was acknowledged. "I-I didn't realize you were back in town. Look - I-I still haven't got all the caps together, but just give me another week...!"

Abby knew that Hancock was viewed by most people as being a dangerous cutthroat - someone not to fuck with if they knew what was good for them. Still, she often forgot this detail and found it surprising when she was reminded of it. He had never been anything less than kind to her, even before they began traveling together. It was almost amusing to her to see someone react in such terror to a man she knew to be truly soft at heart.

"Oh... uh... yeah, sure..." Hancock replied. Maybe traveling with Abby had made him forget exactly how intimidating he was supposed to be? He fell back into the role pretty easily, however, as he threw a threat back at the man, voice lowering to a menacing growl, "But you better have it then. Now get the hell out of here...!"

The man nodded frantically, taking off for the exit. Abby tried to hide her grin behind a hand. Something about the entire exchange amused her to no end. Bobbi got up, tossing a few caps onto the bar before quietly departing. Abby didn't give it much thought, continuing to enjoy Magnolia's singing while Charlie handed her a cherry Nuka Cola. It wouldn't take the edge off, but at least she didn't risk spewing it all over the bar.

A few hours passed before the two left the bar.  She felt relieved as they arrived back at the Old State House. The couches weren't the most comfortable in the world, but at least behind closed doors it was just her and Hancock. She felt emotionally drained, and being around more people certainly hadn't help her regain any energy.

She removed the outer coat of her Silver Shroud getup with the intent of draping it over the back of one of the couches. As she moved to do so, she could hear something rustling within one of the pockets. Curious, she reached inside, pulling out a piece of paper. She unfolded it, an address written inside. Marked under the location were the words, "If you want to help the mayor, come alone. -Bobbi."

When had she managed to slip this into her pocket? Perhaps when Abby was distracted by the nervous drifter talking to Hancock? Part of her wanted to show John the note, but another, larger part of her was intrigued. Come alone? She knew a little of Bobbi's reputation. A few people had initially attributed the elimination of the unsavory folk that the Silver Shroud had taken out to Bobbi, telling Abby all she needed to know about the woman. Hancock also seemed to trust her well enough. If this was truly for the purpose of helping him...

"Something troubling ya?" he asked, causing Abby to snap out of her daze. She quickly slipped the parchment back into her pocket, shaking her head as she placed her hat on top of the coat.

"Mmmm... no, just the usual," she replied, settling down on the couch. Hancock smiled, gathering some Fancy Lad cakes and a few containers of Jet from the counter before plopping down next to her. An arm settled across her shoulders, prompting her to lean against him. He was trying so hard to cheer her up... it made her feel guilty for sulking so much lately. She finally decided that she would do it. If whatever Bobbi had planned could perhaps help Abby show her appreciation for him in even the smallest of ways? It was certainly worth at least hearing her out.

\---

Abby kept her scarf tugged around her face, letting the Silver Shroud outfit conceal her appearance as much as possible. She had managed to slip out while Hancock was sleeping. The Jet seemed to help him stay asleep while she made her exit. While she did worry about leaving him like that, there were plenty of Neighborhood Watch guards stationed outside of his room to reassure her that he would be safe, even in his current drug-induced stupor.

She knocked hesitantly on the door of the house listed in the note. A few minutes passed without a response. Rather than knock again, she considered turning around and abandoning the idea - after all, she was already uncertain enough as it was. Before she had a chance to walk away, the sliding peephole in the door opened, a pair of eyes peering out.

"'Bought time you showed up," a voice noted before sliding the opening shut and unlocking the door. Bobbi silently gestured for Abby to enter. She felt uneasy for some reason, but nodded, walking inside. Bobbi latched the door behind them, quietly leading her down a flight of stairs. There was a large, gaping hole in the wall at the bottom of the staircase, as though someone had been tunneling through it.

After walking through the tunnel a little ways, the area opened up, revealing the machine that was used to dig through the sediment. Pipes were connected all around the place, some of them leaking enough to soak the ground under her feet. She was glad she had on boots. A man stood nearby, tinkering with an eyebot.

"This the newbie?" he asked, putting his tools away.

"Yeah - just as promised," Bobbi replied with a smile.

"No offense, but... doesn't look like much. Can she even _lift_ a gun...?" the man questioned. Abby wrinkled her brow, pulling down the scarf that initially covered her mouth.

"If it's a gunner you need, I can shoot as well as anyone else," she argued.

"Relax - she's proven herself capable," Bobbi re-assured the man. He shrugged, still looking skeptical.

"So long as she gets the job done," he commented. Abby looked over at Bobbi, still uncertain about everything.

"So what's this all about?" she wondered. "You said we'd be helping John...?"

Bobbi's smile pulled back into a grin, menacing teeth flashing as she showed her amusement. "On a first-name basis now, are you?" she wondered. Abby blushed, rubbing her arm nervously.

"I... guess you could say that..." she murmured back.

"Well," Bobbi explained, " _John_ isn't too fond of Diamond City, is he? But what he probably doesn't know is that there's a strongroom buried underneath it. McDonough's just sitting on top of it, and that's our target."

Abby chewed a little on her lip as she contemplated the information. "So... you're suggesting we steal stuff from McDonough for Goodneighbor...?" she asked.

"Well, most of it," Bobbi clarified. "The caps? Ours for the taking - wouldn't make sense to go through all this effort and not get paid. But everything else..."

Abby shook her head. "What else is there?" she wondered, not quite understanding.

"Meds, food... enough to keep Diamond City running. It's things everyone wants," Bobbi answered. "Don't get me wrong - the caps are my primary motivation - but if I get to take them from a bigot to help my own? That's just icing."

Abby remained quiet as she went through the scenario in her head. Sure, this wasn't exactly the nicest thing to do to Diamond City. The place was full of assholes who certainly deserved worse for what they had done to ghouls, but there were good people like Piper and Nick who lived there, too. Then again... maybe something like this could serve as a wakeup call to the rest of the city - even get McDonough replaced with someone less repulsive. And helping out Goodneighbor - a place that had treated her with kindness in spite of its unsavory reputation...?

"I'm in," she decided with an affirmative nod. Bobbi looked pleased with the answer, slapping her on the back.

"Welcome to the team, then!" Bobbi proclaimed. Something about this still  _felt_ wrong, but perhaps it was just her nerves acting up. "So, Shroud.... do I call you that?" she wondered. Abby shrugged a little.

"Or... Abigail is fine..." she replied in an uncertain tone.

"Abigail, then," Bobbi continued, "This here is Mel - our tech guy. He can make a gadget to solve any problem." Mel smiled a little, waving at Abby. He seemed rather embarrassed by the compliment, but didn't argue against it. "Mel, you wanna introduce your little friend?"

"Uh... yeah!" Mel perked up, gesturing to the eyebot behind him. "Meet Sonya! This little bot is going to help us move through the earth like a mole rat on Jet."

Sonya hovered about, making a chirping sound. Abby's eyes widened as she instantly took a few steps closer to the small droid.

"She's adorable...!" she blurted out, not really thinking. She reached out her hand, wondering if it was okay to touch the eyebot. The blue glow surrounding the machine made her think twice, however. "Can... can she really do all of that...?"

"Uh... well, y-yeah...!" Mel replied, relaxing a touch. "She's one of a kind. I modified her radio systems to emit sonic pulses at frequencies that can loosen any sediment around."

"That's amazing!" Abby grinned. "I can't wait to see her at work!"

"And I can't wait to show you," he laughed, suddenly looking excited.

"It's a helluva lot safer than loading the place up with dynamite," Bobbi added.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Abby wondered, starting to feel a little better about the plan. Mel nodded, backing up.

"Alright guys, get ready. I'm not completely sure how the place will respond," he warned, "So... uh... brace yourselves."

"That's... comforting to know how well you've thought this through," Abby sighed, moving away from the wall Sonya was set to destroy.

"Sonya, do your thing!" he ordered after everyone had gathered at a safe distance. The little bot chittered, electricity visibly coursing through her body before an explosion erupted, kicking up enough dust to conceal everyone's vision. Abby started to cough, having inhaled some of the particles. She pulled her scarf back up over her mouth and nose to filter the air.

After everything settled, the wall revealed another path forward.

"Our target is to the Southwest, but we may have to do some winding to get there," Bobbi informed them as they stepped through the collapsed structure. Abby held tightly to her rifle, feeling uneasy about what cold be lurking in the passageways. What if there were giant radioactive spiders? She didn't mind the small kind, but the idea that just about anything could have been warped over the past two centuries didn't settle well with her.

As they turned the corner, she found something a little easier to stomach - Mirelurks. She took a step forward, thinking that perhaps she could try calming the creatures down.  She had succeeded in approaching a couple of Mirelurks near the river north of Goodneighbor, after all.  Her plans didn't work quite the way she wanted them to, however, as Bobbi started taking shots at the over-sized crustaceans.

To say Abby was annoyed was an understatement, but it couldn't be helped. She aimed her rifle for their underbellies, trying not to feel too guilty as the carapaces shattered, killing the creatures. As the three continued along the way, Bobbi stomped through a Mirelurk nest, crushing the eggs under her feet.

"Hey - careful!" Abby lectured her. "No reason to kill their babies!"

".... they're Mirelurks," Bobbi retorted.

"Aaaand...?"

"Fucking ankle-biters," Mel complained, kicking a hatchling that was pinching at his leg. Abby knelt over, picking the small creature up.

"It's harmless," she scoffed, checking it over for any injuries. It was now missing a leg, but that would regenerate through molting - nothing seemed wrong otherwise.

"You got a thing about Mirelurks?" Mel questioned. Abby shrugged, gently placing the hatchling back down.

"They're just protecting their nests," she explained. "No reason to waste bullets or energy on something that's even more scared of us than we are of it."

She worded her reasoning carefully in an attempt to hide just how much of a bleeding heart she had over the situation. The argument seemed to satisfy her companions enough as they moved through, Bobbi at least appearing to make a small effort to side-step future nesting sites.

After blasting their way through several more walls, the group found themselves in a subway tunnel.

"Looks like we're on the right track," Bobbi commented as she looked around.

"Oh!" Mel grinned, "I see what you did there!" Abby snickered behind her scarf at the pun.

"What?" Bobbi replied, stopping to think about what Mel meant before shaking her head and sighing. "Mel, _no_. Just keep heading southwest. We need to find a place to blast out of these tunnels."

The area opened up as they approached a subway station. Everything seemed peaceful at first until Abby spotted one of the damned monkey dolls sitting on a nearby bench. She remembered how one of the stupid things had gotten her in trouble back at the comic store. She aimed for its head, taking a shot. A feeling of satisfaction swept through her as it hit.

"And you're getting onto _us_ about wasting ammo...?" Mel questioned. Abby shrugged.

"Trust me - it deserved it." she replied. Suddenly, sounds of something scuffling about and moaning could be heard in every direction. It was a sound Abby knew far too well. She started to freeze up, breath quickening as her eyes darted about. Where the _fuck_  were they?

Sure enough, ferals emerged from the surrounding rubble. At first they lumbered toward their victims, but their pace quickened the closer they came. They seemed to ignore Bobbi, going straight for the two smoothskins standing behind her.

"Shit shit shit!" Mel cursed, shooting erratically. Clearly he hadn't been brought along for his marksmanship. One of the ferals reached out, grabbing and yanking him to the ground. Abby snapped out of it. She couldn't afford to let her fear override everything else if she wanted to keep Mel alive. She took a shot, blowing the head off of the monster. Mel looked stunned as he remained on the ground, no worse for the wear.

"Bobbi....?!" Abby called out as she continued to fire.

"Right - forgot..." Bobbi shouted back, realizing that her companions were not going to be as easily ignored by the creatures. She was able to get closer to the action, firing rounds into her feral brethren. Even her actions didn't seem to draw any attention as the others continued to lunge after the humans. At least Mel made excellent bait in his current predicament.

After what seemed like a lifetime of shooting, everything fell quiet. Abby sunk down to her knees, shaking.

"You okay?" Bobbi asked her. Abby nodded wearily.

"Y-yeah... I just need a minute..." she replied, taking a few deep breaths.

"I'll scope out ahead - catch up when you're ready," Bobbi noted, moving along. Mel stayed behind, regaining his bearings.

"Not a fan of ghouls?" he asked. Abby shook her head.

"Just not fond of the feral variety," she explained.

"Yeah, can't fault you there," he noted, helping her up. She felt a little wobbly, but otherwise okay.

"Thanks..." she murmured with a small smile.

"Not a problem," he replied, helping her move in the direction where Bobbi had vanished. "Hey... mind if I ask you how you got involved in all of this...?" he wondered. She shrugged.

"Bobbi said we would be helping Goodneighbor and I agreed. Not much more complicated of a story than that, I'm afraid," she explained.

"Yeah... about that... doesn't it seem odd to you...? I mean, it feels like she's not telling us something."

"You don't trust her?" she questioned. At least she wasn't alone when it came to having uneasy thoughts about the situation.

"Well... I'll give Bobbi this - she may be shady, but she always pays up in the end. I just feel like she's holding back on details is all."

"Yeah..." she sighed. "Don't worry, though... if she tries anything, I've got your back," she tried to re-assure him. Mel smiled a little at her words.

"Good to know," he replied as Bobbi came into view. She was standing next to a wall, examining it.

"This one should do," she noted, stepping away. Mel nodded, sending Sonya over to collapse the wall.

The group traveled onward through several additional tunnels, fighting off more ferals and stepping around a few other Mirelurk dens as they moved along. They finally reached a room where Bobbi paused, glancing upward.

"Well, guys, we're right under the Diamond City strongroom," she informed them.

"You sure this is the right place?" Mel questioned, "Because I've been mapping it out and I think Diamond City should be a little further north of here..."

Bobbi shot Mel a look, but kept her tone rather calm. "I don't have a doubt in my mind. How about a little trust for the boss?"

Abby worried about Mel's doubts. Every fiber of her being was telling her that something was amiss, but she couldn't muster up the confidence to speak up against the woman. She would simply have to see what happened. Mel examined the roof quietly before giving an affirmative nod.

"The foundation is already crumbling. One blast from Sonya and I bet the floor above will come right down," he observed.

"Well then," Bobbi ordered, "Make it so."

Mel gestured back at the tunnel they had emerged from. "We... uh... really don't wanna be in the room for this. Collapsing foundation and all?" Abby nodded, not needing any further explanation as she took a few steps back into the tunnel. Once the three were standing safely away, Mel gave the command, "Sonya - prepare yourself for a blast at maximum power!"

She could hear the little bot whistle in reply. Mel started to count down until an explosion shook the area. It was much more violent than the previous detonations.

"Shit... that didn't sound good. I hope Sonya's okay..." Mel muttered under his breath as he rushed ahead. Sonya was lying on the floor, circuits sparking around her. "Oh, no, no, no, Sonya!" he called out, kneeling next to the bot as he checked on her.

"Is she okay...?" Abby wondered. Mel shook his head in reply, not looking the least bit happy with the situation.

"Pull yourself together, Mel," Bobbi told him harshly. "We don't need that thing anymore anyway. You can make another with the haul we get from the strongroom."

"Yeah, but-" Mel tried to argue. Bobbi ignored him, walking up the ramp that the collapsed ceiling had created and stepping through a door.

"I'm sorry, Mel," Abby murmured sympathetically.

"Yeah, it's okay..." he sighed, getting up. "Just hope whatever's in that strongroom is worth it..."

The two made their way through the door, catching up with Bobbi. On the other side was a sight Abby hadn't quite counted on. There were a few train cars positioned in the center of the room, several ramps lining the walls around them. Perched on top of a walkway above them was a familiar figure, accompanied by two Neighborhood Watchmen.

"... Fahrenheit...?" Abby asked, surprised. The woman leaned against a stack of heavy boxes, smiling casually. Abby couldn't recall ever having seen Hancock's bodyguard look quite so amused before. It would have been a refreshing change from the intimidating stares, if not for the fact that her presence brought too many questions along with it.

"Shit..." Bobbi hissed, taking a few steps back.

"You seriously didn't think Hancock would catch wind of your scheme?" Fahrenheit questioned. Abby could feel her heart sinking. Hancock? What was this...?  "He took you in, Bobbi," she continued, "and you're _stealing_  from him...?"

Abby and Mel both turned their attention to Bobbi, confused expressions coloring both of their faces.  

"Don't listen to her!" Bobbi snapped at them in vain.  It was kind of hard to ignore what the bodyguard for the mayor of Goodneighbor had just condemned her of.

"Bobbi..." Abby asked, "What is this? Why is she accusing you of stealing from John...?"

"Yeah, about that," Bobbi confessed in an irritable tone, "As Mel guessed, this isn't the Diamond City strongroom."

".... then where _are_  we...?" Abby asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I see the rest of you are in the dark about this," Fahrenheit mused. "You all just broke into Hancock's store room."

"Dammit, Bobbi...!" Mel cursed. Abby felt like she was going to be sick. She looked over at the ghoulish woman, tightening the grip on her rifle.

"... why, Bobbi...? Why would you...?" she stammered, not able to properly find the words to express just how hurt - just how betrayed - she felt.

"Because I knew no one in their right mind would help me rip him off," Bobbi replied. "Everyone is either so damn afraid of him or so damn in love with him, he thinks he's invincible. I wanted to show him he wasn't."

"... so you _used_  me...? Knowing... knowing..." she trembled, her emotions a mixture of fury and panic. _Shit_. What was he going to think of her helping rob his strongroom? She almost wanted to make Bobbi's head explode right then and there. Almost.

"Listen, guys, I know this isn't what you expected, but there are still a ton of caps on the line here," Bobbi tried to argue. "Help me take her out and all of it is ours."

".... Fuck you," Abby hissed in reply, voice wavering. "If anyone's going to get taken out, it's _you_ , you lying double-crossing ungrateful...!"

"This is Hancock we're ripping off here," Mel added. "The guy tends to hold grudges."

"Counter offer," Fahrenheit spoke up. "Just go back into your tunnel and we can forget this ever happened. What do you say?"

Abby raised her rifle, pointing it at Bobbi. "I like her offer. I recommend taking it if you want to at least leave with your life."

Bobbi sighed, shaking her head.  "Shit..." she replied bitterly, "I'm not one to give up, but I know when I'm outmatched." She turned to Mel, gesturing for him to follow. "Let's go."

"Thank God..." Mel let out a sigh of relief, not seeming keen on the idea of getting on Hancock's bad side. He looked up at the bodyguard before heading out. "Sorry for almost stealing from your boss, Miss Fahrenheit, Ma'am," he called out to her before chasing after Bobbi. Abby couldn't help but feel bad for him. He had put so much effort and resources into this project only to leave empty handed, and without Sonya. Still, at least Fahrenheit had been more than fair in letting him walk away without bloodshed.  In the Commonwealth, that was more generous than most people would offer a thief. He quickly caught up with Bobbi, giving her an earful along the way. "The last time I trust you, the _last_...!" he lectured loudly.

"You'll get over it," Bobbi replied calmly, seeming to shake his words off.

Abby nearly dropped her rifle after the two were out of sight. She didn't feel well at all, the experience leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She had to be so damned trusting, didn't she?

"You made the right move," Fahrenheit noted, walking down the ramp to join her on the floor below.

"How... how did you even find us...?" Abby wondered.

"If you think Hancock doesn't know about everything that happens in his territory, you're mistaken," Fahrenheit explained. "Plus, you guys weren't exactly silent down there."

"Y-yeah..." she sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "I guess I didn't really think about it..."

"Well," Fahrenheit grinned, "I can't say I expected you to be one of Bobbi's hired men, but Hancock should be happy to hear about your loyalty."

Abby tensed up at the words. "I... I didn't mean for this to happen," she murmured worriedly. "I thought... well... Bobbi said we were robbing McDonough to help out John..."

Fahrenheit slapped a hand on Abby's shoulder, a gesture that took her by surprise. "The boss will understand. You didn't know what you were doing," Fahrenheit re-assured her. Abby still seemed unconvinced.

"You... don't he'll be upset...?"

"At you?" Fahrenheit questioned, snorting a laugh. "Haven't seen the guy act like this in years. I think you'll have to do a lot more than just rob him to get on his bad side."

Abby shook her head, feeling confused. "I... I don't understand... I thought... well, I thought you hated me...?"

The bodyguard snorted another laugh. "Good to know I'm doing my job right, then," she hummed before walking away.  As she reached the exit, she paused.  "Hey, Vault-Kid?" she called back over her shoulder, "Make sure he comes back in one piece. I'd hate to have to smash your face in."

Abby nodded nervously in reply.  Fahrenheit passed through the door, the two Neighborhood watchmen in tow. Abby wasn't quite certain what had just happened, but she somehow wondered if she had just made a new ally... or if she had always had this alliance the entire time. Either way, now came the hard part: facing Hancock.

\---

Abby found Hancock leaning against the brick fence near the entrance to Goodneighbor. He seemed lost in thought, making her feel all the more awkward approaching him. It was hard to gauge his current mood. Was he upset? Angry? Disappointed?  His neutral expression gave her nothing to work with.

She almost considered slipping around and heading elsewhere, but knew she would have to face the music eventually. She took in a deep breath, holding it as she walked closer. He shifted, glancing in her direction. An amused smirk came across his face - something she certainly hadn't expected.

"Well, if it ain't Bobbi's little patsy," he hummed. She exhaled shakily, not sure what to think of the comment.

"I'm... I'm so sorry...!" she choked out. "Bobbi tricked me..."

"Yeah," he grinned, "That's usually how it goes around here." He pushed off of the wall, closing the distance between them as he pulled her into a hug. She buried her face against the crimson coat, not saying anything. She didn't even find herself crying - just simply counting her breaths and feeling relief that he wasn't rejecting her. She finally calmed down enough to find her tongue.

"So... we're okay...?" she wondered. He pulled back, tilting her chin upward to get a better look at her, thumb gently running along her jawline.

"We are," he replied. She stopped focusing on her breathing, letting a few tears escape. Shit. She hated how easily she could break down. At least she wasn't in hysterics this time.

"I'm so sorry..." she repeated. "I thought... it wasn't supposed to be your strongroom.  Bobbi... Bobbi said we were stealing from McDonough... doing it to help you..."

Hancock let out a chuckle, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Well, it's the thought that counts, Sunshine," he noted before kissing her. She was still jittery from her anxiety, but the gesture helped ease her mind further. She kissed back, clinging to his coat -not wishing to let go. After a moment, he shifted his mouth next to her ear.

"C'mon... I owe you a reward for protecting my stash," he whispered suggestively. Abby could feel her entire face turning red from the comment, but she certainly wasn't going to argue against it. She ducked her head, grinning bashfully as she nodded. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her in the direction of the Old State House.

Things hadn't exactly gone according to plan, but - if nothing else - Abby now had more re-assurance that even placing trust in the wrong people wouldn't cause her love to abandon her. Somehow, that made her heart feel calm - something she truly needed during such a trying time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for an update, folks! Been pretty busy with a lot of stuff on my plate, but I will continue to try and get chapters out whenever I can! :)


	24. Walk Away

The riverside of Boston was very quiet and tranquil that evening. Sure, there was the noise from passing vehicles and the screeching of birds overhead, but overall things felt calm and at ease.

It was the winter before Abby's final semester of high school. Life was stressful, but having a couple of weeks break in between studies kept her brain from turning to mush. Not that her brain was very focused at the moment. She could see her breath passing in front of her - hands fidgeting while tears quietly splashed against her knuckles. This wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

"First Jeanette and now you...?" she quietly choked, receiving no verbal reply. _Say something. Say anything. Why are you doing this to me?_

Her closest friend, Palmer, stood nearby. She wanted him to speak - to explain himself. She could control this situation. All it took was her taking out the phone in her pocket and dialing the number. It would be so easy. A simple phone call and she could report exactly what he was planning and put a stop to it. Sure, it would sever their friendship beyond repair, but at least he would be _safe_.

Her fingers continued to move back and forth against the palm of her other hand, never once reaching for her jeans pocket. She could do this. She needed to do this. Why couldn't she make her hands move?

Palmer wasn't just her closest friend. At this point, he was her only friend. Jeanette had always been the third of their group, but she was gone now. She had not only left for college, but just days prior she had sent a text letting them know she was done with them. She had a new life now. A new girlfriend - someone who wasn't Abby. A promising existence elsewhere. She had grown up and moved on in the world while everything remained still for those she left behind. What could they do? They were still nothing more than stupid children bound by parental house-rules. Graduation wasn't for another five months.

Maybe if Abby had studied harder, she could have moved on with her and remained part of her love's world. Maybe she'd be considered by most to be an adult by then - someone capable of making her own decisions. Someone who could contact their own brother without parents breathing down their neck. But she hadn't. There were so many maybe's and what if's. What good were they other than painful reminders that jabbed daggers within the soul?

"I'm sorry," Palmer finally spoke up. Abby looked behind her, but his gaze was distant. He was staring across the river, not at her. Sorry? SORRY? Was that all he could say? Was that all he was capable of? Sorry didn't put back the pieces of her shattered heart. Sorry didn't repair the bridges he was burning in his wake. If he was truly sorry, then why not stop? Why not re-consider? It wasn't too late. He hadn't left yet. Right now it was just a curfew violation. At the very worse, he might find himself grounded for a weekend. If he was truly sorry then why... why didn't he look at her? Why didn't he say more to her? _Why?_

"She was _my_ girlfriend, for fuck's sake, Palm!" Abby found herself choking out curses. " _I_ should be the one upset! I should be... should be the one hurt by this... a-and I am! But you... what good will it do? Running away? You have one semester left - one! And then you can do whatever the fuck you want! Why... why are you doing this to me?"

Smoke mixed with hot breath poured from his mouth as he exhaled, tossing a cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

"Promise you won't tell them," he replied, ignoring everything she had spouted.

"Tell them what? That you drove off to God knows where?!" she asked, voice trembling. Some of it was due to the cold. The rest was her nerves, the sensation of her insides being ripped and rotated inside out. "They're gonna call the cops when you don't come home - I can't just not say anything!"

"You don't understand," came the response. "They don't care about me. Nobody does. I can't take this shitty stress anymore. I dunno where I belong, but it ain't here."

"I... I care..." Abby sobbed, voice barely above a whisper. "Does that... does that even matter...? Did... did it _ever_ matter...?"

The crunch of gravel under Palmer's feet caught Abby's attention as she turned to see him walking back towards his car. She didn't think her heart could sink any lower. She was wrong.

"I'll call ya when I get where I'm going," he called back to her.

Abby couldn't take it. Her pain turned to anger, heartbreak to frustration. She clenched her teeth and fists, pushing off of the wall and landing on her feet.

"Palm, I swear to God, if you drive away right now, I'll... I'll never forgive you! Not now, not ever!" she sniffled, tears not ceasing. He paused in his tracks but didn't turn around or say anything. "I-I mean it!" she continued. "You leave... don't call... don't write... just... just fuck you, because it means you don't care... you don't... did... did I ever mean anything or was it only ever just her?"

The resulting silence between them only made the wrenching sensation in her stomach worse. Seconds passed... maybe minutes. It was hard for Abby to tell at that point. Time was irrelevant. The silence was all that mattered.

In a movie or TV show, he would have turned around and told her to come with him. Said anything to make things okay. Instead, he started to take off again, not even bothering to look back. She wondered if he could hear her sharp inhale followed by the series of louder sobs. She wondered if he even cared. Was this some sort of punishment? Something she had done wrong? It wasn't fair - it wasn't fair at all.

The car pulled away, smoke trailing into the cold air. And like that, she was alone with nothing but her thoughts and the sound of her heart pounding in her chest.  

***

"Hey, you okay, Sunshine?" a voice snapped Abby out of her trance. She was sitting in the same spot she had all those years ago. The stone was now worn away - two centuries of elements having taken its toll. The water was now polluted beyond all recognition. Debris littered the nearby walkway and no cars or birds were to be heard.

Just like last time, a person stood next to her. Unlike her memory, however, this time that person looked at her - concern reflected in his dark eyes.

"Y-yeah..." she exhaled slowly, looking back over the water. "I just... I just remembered something about this place."

"Cap for your thoughts?" Hancock questioned, moving to sit next to her. Abby shook her head.

"Not... not now," she decided. "Maybe... maybe some other time. Someday when I'm over it," she told him, as though it hadn't already been two hundred years.

He reached over, placing his arm around her and pulling her to rest her head against him.  She closed her eyes, listening to him hum softly as he tried his best to cheer her up.

Her past life was full of people who had abandoned her. Full of people who weren't there when she needed them. It seemed almost strange for her in the here and now. The entire world had come to an end, and yet somehow she had more love and reassurance than she ever did back before the war.

It was never guaranteed that people would stay in her life forever. It was never guaranteed that her heart would remain unbroken. But for now, she at least felt secure in the one guarantee she did have - that no matter what, life would go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people walk out of your life quietly. Others cause a storm to stir in the center of your soul. Others, still, set fire to bridges when they leave. You can't help them all. You can only hope to be stronger and hold on to those who, in the end, truly care to stick around through the darkest of hours.
> 
>  
> 
> So.... I spent close to 2 months with writer's block, only to write a chapter that adds no progression to the plot whatsoever. Oops. Hopefully I'll get out of this funk sometime soon.


	25. The Glowing Sea

Abby still felt down about Nick vanishing, but she didn't have the heart to return to Diamond City to see if he was there. She was almost certain that's where he had disappeared to, but she didn't know exactly what she would say if she showed up at his office. Sure, she knew an apology was in order, but how well would he receive it? She hated feeling so cowardly over something like this, but she just couldn't muster up the courage to return just yet.

She used the hazmat suit as an excuse to avoid Diamond City for a bit. They needed to find one if she was going to effectively navigate the Glowing Sea. While power armor was also an option, she wasn't exactly trained in how to use it. She had been lucky when Sturges talked her through everything back in Concord, but she had no desire to repeat that chaotic experience. Wearing something that bulky really wasn't her thing, anyway.

Hancock had pointed out that they might be able to find a hazmat suit in Diamond City, but Abby tried to dance around that detail as best as she could.

"It would be a waste of time," she told him. "Even if they do have one, who's going to tell us about it? Most people there are too busy being assholes to help out..."

She wasn't entirely wrong in her reasoning, though she was aware Hancock didn't quite buy her excuse. He still didn't pressure her further on the issue, seeming at least happy to be out and about in the world where they could help out others along the way.

Most of their days were spent clearing out raider camps. It wasn't exactly Abby's idea of a good time, but every little bit made the Commonwealth just that much safer. Hancock certainly seemed to get a kick out of wiping the floor with raider scum, leaving little room for her to complain.

The two now walked along the river, heading westward. It was a fairly pretty day, the weather finally warming up. While the water was murky from various pollution and radiation, it still made her feel calm to look out at it. She imagined what life might still lurk beneath the waves. Hancock had commented about fishing with his father when he was younger - the idea that fish could survive in all of this reassured her that perhaps not everything she loved about the ocean had perished when the bombs hit.

Seeing a bench nearby, they stopped to take a short break, Hancock lighting up a cigarette and kicking his feet out while he relaxed. Abby used the downtime to sort through her bag, making sure everything was in place and taking note of any items they needed to re-stock on.

They were chatting about the odd ghoul trader they had run into a few hours prior. She had been quite the character - tall with a button-up plaid shirt, a mo-hawk, a chipped tooth, and a fiery personality. They had been hopeful that perhaps the large stash of junk she carried with her would contain just what they needed, but unfortunately she hadn't come across any hazmat suits in quite some time.

"You know, someone like that? Has to be either stupid or fucking strong," Hancock noted, blowing smoke into the wind.

"Why's that?" Abby wondered, still preoccupied with her bag.

"Well, see," he explained, "It was just her and that Brahmin, right? You don't see that around here for a reason. Smart traders hire caravan guards. Traveling solo with a Brahmin and loads of supplies? Is just asking to get your ass shot by raiders."

She smiled, shrugging a little. "She seemed to know what she was doing," she pointed out. "So maybe she really is that tough?"

Hancock looked doubtful, but shrugged, tossing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

"Well, either way, I liked her," Abby mused, letting her eyes drift along with the nearby waves.

She noticed one object that stood out from the rest of the floating debris - a small boat. Not just any small boat, either, but one that appeared to be occupied by a ghoul. Given his dress and overall posture, it was fairly easy for Abby to assume, even from a distance, that he was most likely not feral.

"Hey!" she shouted out to him, waving.

"... you really don't get this whole 'don't draw attention' concept, do ya?" Hancock sighed.

"Oh come on, John - what's the worse that could happen?" she retorted.

"... we announce to every super mutant in a five block radius that we're here?" he answered. Abby simply ignored the comment, continuing her attempt to flag down the boatman.

The ghoul paused in his rowing, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looked over at the two. He began to steer the boat in their direction, arriving near the shore a few moments later.

"What the fuck?!" the ghoul swore, eying them up and down. "Didn't realize there was a fucking cosplay convention in town..."

"A what?" Hancock questioned. Abby shook her head, giving a dismissive wave to signal that it was best he not even ask.

"Not exactly," she informed him. "But we could use some help, if you happen to know the area?"

The man stared at Abby for a moment, a scowl firmly in place, before responding.

"And if I do, why the fuck should I take up my fucking time to give you fucking freaks fucking directions?!"

"... Fifty caps say I can guess what your favorite word is," Hancock grinned.

"Fuck off!" came the reply. Abby was starting to think that asking this guy was a bad idea...

"I.... we didn't mean to bother you, sir," she murmured, voice and head lowering as she started to wonder if it would be problematic to just take off in the opposite direction. "We're just... we're looking for my son..."

The man's features softened. He scratched behind his head, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Well shit... why didn't ya tell me sooner? I'm not _that_ fucking heartless," he noted.

"You didn't exactly give us a chance _to_ tell ya," Hancock pointed out.

"Was I fucking talking to you?!" the man snapped back. _Whoa boy_...

"Um... well..." Abby continued, "It's a long story, but we kind of need a hazmat suit to get to the person who may know where my son is. We were wondering if maybe you knew of any places nearby where we could find one?"

The man thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"Only place that comes to mind is a raider camp down the way," he noted. "Assholes tried stealing my boat once - took all my Fancy Lad cakes, the bastards!" he snarked.

"And what makes you think they have a hazmat suit?" Abby questioned.

"Because one of them came running out wearing one to shoot at me while the rest scattered, that's why!" he retorted. "Fucking racism..."

Abby and Hancock exchanged glances.

"What... exactly do you mean-" she started to ask before being cut off.

"Fucking idiots thought being a ghoul was contagious or something," he clarified, crossing his arms. "I told them I licked every single one of those fucking cake packages and they threw them into the river - INTO THE FUCKING RIVER!"

Ignoring the humor of the sailor's plight, Abby started to consider the idea of chasing the lead. Clearing out raider camps had become routine, and if they were that afraid of ghouls, maybe that would give them an edge.

"Worth a shot... even if for some reason they don't have it anymore, at least we've done the Commonwealth a favor...?" she hummed. Hancock nodded in agreement.

"That all ya need?" the sailor asked impatiently. Abby smiled weakly.

"Uh... yeah... thank you... um... I didn't catch your name?"

"Because I didn't fucking throw it," he snapped back. He paused as he noticed the woman cringing. "I mean... sorry, miss - I'm Zephyr."

He stretched out his arm, offering his hand guiltily. She hesitated for a moment before relaxing a little, reaching out and shaking it.

"Abigail," she introduced.

Hancock leaned over the edge of the riverbank, as though he were about to shake hands as well.

"And I'm Han-"

"Don't know, don't fucking care," Zephyr dismissed.

Abby snorted a small laugh at Hancock's baffled expression. She almost worried that he would try and gut the sailor for his sass, but fortunately he backed off, simply shrugging and shaking his head.

"Rude," he muttered under his breath.

"What the fuck did you say?!" Zephyr asked.

"I said you can go fuck yourself with that oar," Hancock spoke louder. The man opened his mouth to respond - most likely in a string of profanity - but Abby quickly interjected.

"Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Zephyr, sir," she smiled at him. He paused, finally closing his mouth and nodding.

"I hope you find your kid, Abby," he told her. While she hadn't introduced herself under her nickname, she didn't protest. She smiled back at him, nodding in thanks. Sure, he seemed to have his share of anger issues, but something about him told her that under the surface, he meant well enough. Well... at least towards her. He didn't seem very fond of her companion.

The two departed, leaving the old ghoul sailor in peace.

"What a salty piece of shit..." Hancock muttered as they gained some distance.

"Give him a break. He's lived over two hundred years dealing with God knows what," Abby argued.

"You think he's pre-war?" he wondered. She nodded.

"The cosplay comment? Oooh yeah... definitely pre-war. I'd hate to even imagine what he must have gone through to make him so bitter."

Hancock simply shrugged. "I know plenty of pre-war ghouls, and none of them are _that_ bitter."

"Maybe none of them have gone through what he has?" she suggested. He sighed, nodding quietly as they headed in the direction of the raider camp Zephyr mentioned.

***

The initial expectations Abby held of what the Glowing Sea would look like paled in comparison to the actual place. It was hauntingly beautiful - something she hadn't imagined. The place literally glowed from radiation. The sky's sickening green color was reflected by the scattered pools of water that stretched beyond the horizon. It was hard to picture what the place might have looked like back before the war. Unlike other places in the Wasteland, the relics of the past were very few and far between here.

Abby would have loved to inspect the place further with her own eyes, but she was quickly reminded of her limitations of being a smoothskin. They were still quite a bit of distance away from the impact site, yet she could already start to feel the effects of the radiation. The Geiger counter on her Pip Boy ticked away, a sound she took seriously. She stopped to get herself ready for the rest of the trip. They had found the hazmat suit in the raider camp, just where the ghoul sailor had told them it would be. The suit felt bulky - the visor filtering out enough to keep her from enjoying a proper view. She felt claustrophobic inside of the outfit, but at least it was more mobile than a heavy suit of power armor.

"How do I look?" she asked after getting the suit fixed in place.

"Like a giant orange marshmallow," Hancock quipped in amusement. Abby wasn't sure how much he could see behind her visor, but she stuck her tongue out anyway.

"Smartass," she snorted, re-shouldering her rifle and supply bag. "Well, here we go..."

The first few miles were a joke. The swishing of the hazmat suit made her burst into giggles at various points. She really did feel ridiculous in the getup. The further they journeyed, however, the more sluggish she felt. The Geiger counter started to click out of control. She couldn't recall ever hearing it sound quite so frantic before.

"Are ya sure that thing's enough?" Hancock questioned, appearing just as alarmed - if not more-so - about the clicks than Abby.

"We don't have a choice..." she sighed, shrugging. "I feel fine, though... I'll be fine. Promise."

It was a lie. She already felt sick to her stomach. She couldn't afford to stop, though. She had to find this mysterious scientist - find out how to get to her son. It was all or nothing at this point, no turning back now. They trudged along, her steps feeling more weighted with each passing moment. The radstorm forming overhead only made things worse.

Hancock dealt with passing ferals. The benefit of being a ghoul was that they largely ignored him in spite of the fact he was firing a shotgun in their vicinity. He didn't seem to particularly like killing them, but to protect her? He was willing to do much worse. The two finally came across the ruins of an old Super Duper Mart.

"Sunshine, ya gonna be okay?" he asked her for the tenth time that hour. Abby gave a weak nod.

"Y-yeah.... suit's just... heavier than I thought..." she replied. He gave her a doubtful look before gesturing to the building.

"Let's get outta this storm. See if we can get you some Rad-Away," he told her. She wanted to press on, to keep up the ruse of her being okay, but she lacked the energy to argue as he tugged at her arm.

"O-okay...." she finally muttered, mouth feeling dry. Maybe if they got inside, she could take the suit off just long enough for a drink. Maybe. She was doubtful even a little bit of shelter could shield her against the radiation of this place, but she felt as though she would collapse if she didn't take a break. The two made their way inside. Once in, Abby hit the light on her Pip Boy. The darkness was chased away to reveal corpses. Dead ferals. This didn't bode well.

"Shit... what coulda killed them...?" Hancock wondered, kneeling down next to one. Abby kept her distance. It didn't matter if they _looked_ dead. She knew better than to assume. Fortunately for her, they truly had kicked the bucket. Some of them were more obvious in their demise - ripped to shreds. It had to be an animal of some sort. Wild dogs, perhaps?

Abby pushed forward, trying to get away from the entrance. She noticed a parked car nearby - still upright. She climbed inside, finding a bag filled with medical supplies. Maybe her luck wasn't so bad after all. She felt the earth shift under her feet, causing her to cling to the seat of the vehicle.

"What was that?!" she asked, looking around in panic.

"What was what?" Hancock asked, stepping inside the car to join her. His added weight seemed to cause more shifting until it dawned on Abby that it was the vehicle itself sinking further backward.

"Shit - SHIT, John-!" she choked out. They didn't have a chance to react, the vehicle tipping over and sliding down to the level below. Abby fell hard against the steering wheel, John falling on top of her. A plethora of apologies poured forth from him as he moved away, touching her arm gently. His expression seemed to reflect a worry that he might have just broken her. "I'm fine-I'm fine!" she hissed. In truth, her shoulder was throbbing and she felt as though she might lose what little food was left in her stomach, but she didn't appear to have any broken bones that she could detect. She literally rolled out of the vehicle, letting herself lie stretched out on the pavement. Nope, no more cars for her. She hated driving anyway.

Hancock exited the car, looking upward and letting out a whistle.

"Shit... that's a long way up," he pointed out. "C'mon, s'gotta be some other way to get out." Abby groaned as he helped her stand up. She just wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep - why did he have to move her? He patted her down, checking for tears in the suit before giving a satisfied nod, leading her across the parking garage.

More bodies littered the floor. It was unsettling how some of them appeared to be freshly mauled. She let her Pip Boy light bounce off of the puddles on the floor until it finally revealed a large entity about twenty feet away. She had seen Deathclaws before, but this one had a glow to its eyes that reflected how much radiation it had been exposed to. The creature let out a low growl as the light hit its face. It stood over a feral corpse, blood dripping from its jaws.

Hancock reached out, pushing Abby back quietly with one arm, the other bringing up his shotgun. He didn't need to say anything for her to know what he was thinking.

"John... no...." she whispered, hoping he could hear her past the muffled effect her helmet gave.

"Just... when I give the signal, make a run for it, okay?" he murmured back.

"John!" she tried speaking louder, "It's got food... it's okay! Just... slowly back away..." she tried to tell him. He didn't look at her, refusing to stand down.

"No offense, Sunshine, but you fuckin' losing it?" he asked.

"He's a predator, hon," she argued. "More specifically, a predator with food right in front of him. He's not going to chase us if we don't pose a threat... least not til he's done with his meal, anyway..."

Hancock hesitated to back off, but finally let out a sigh.

"He comes at us, you run and let me do the distracting, ok?" he compromised. While she didn't like the idea of him risking his neck for hers, she nodded reluctantly.

"O.. okay..."

The two made their way slowly and carefully to the opposite side of the garage. There, they found an elevator. It seemed to be the only way up, the nearby stairwell having been collapsed for who knew how long. Hancock mashed on the elevator button. It lit up, power clearly still flowing through it, but the clicks returned no verification that the signal was getting through. No movement. No doors opening. Just... silence.

Abby sank down with her back against the wall, feeling shaky. It finally dawned on her how hopeless this truly was.

"... I'm... I'm gonna die here, aren't I...?" she choked out. Hancock knelt down next to her, trying to coax her up.

"Not if I got anything to say about it!" he re-assured her. "C'mon - there's gotta be another way out-!" She shook her head, unable to move.

"I.... I got us killed.... I shouldn't have.... if we hadn't come here...? If I hadn't gotten in that car...? If I... shit... we're gonna die here and it's all my fault....!"

Hancock sighed, shifting to sit next to her.

"I'm not gonna die," he tried to re-assure her. "Might go feral, but... sometimes I think I probably did a long time ago," he joked. Abby didn't laugh. He placed an arm around her, trying to provide some comfort. "Look, we'll find a way outta this."

".... I feel sick," she finally told him. "I... I dunno if I can make it for very long..."

Hancock tried to put on a casual expression, but there was something about him that felt off. He may not have wanted her to know he was worried, but she could sense it - even while wearing a bulky hazmat suit.

"Hey... ya know? Your brother went ghoul, right? Who knows?" he tried to calm her down. "Maybe it's genetic.... maybe you won't die. You'll just.... turn out like me? Then we got each other - long-term. More fun that way, huh?"

".... you r-really think it's genetic....?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I dunno, but I think some families are more susceptible to it than others? Like... take this one clan - the Grahams? You and your brother could pass for one - a red-headed freckled lot, they are. Every single one of 'em turned ghoul at some point in their life. We're talking like... six? Seven siblings? Maybe more?" he laughed. "None of 'em pre-war, either. They're either the luckiest or unluckiest bunch you'll ever meet - depends on how you look at it." he grinned.

Abby leaned into him, her helmet making it awkward. Maybe she should remove it. Turning into a ghoul didn't sound too bad. Some of the nicest people she knew were ghouls. Maybe if she just....

She reached up, touching her helmet, but her thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the elevator dinging. The two of them looked over in time to see the doors open. A familiar figure stood inside, the beaten hat and trench-coat a welcome sight.

"Nick...!" she exclaimed as she struggled to get up. Her knees refused to let her move, buckling as she made the attempt.

"'Bout time I caught up with you two!" he noted, looking pleased with himself. "Know how hard it's been to track you guys? Even had to bargain with this one ghoul who kept calling me, and I quote, 'Mother-fucking Robo Dick Tracy'."

Hancock snorted a laugh as he popped a couple of Buffout tablets before scooping Abby up into a bridal-style carry hold.

"I hope ya shot 'em for that," he quipped. Abby laid her head against Hancock's chest, Geiger counter still ticking away.

"I thought... I thought you were mad at me...." she told Nick. "Thought you left to go back to Diamond City..." Nick shook his head.

"Had another lead I had to follow up on, but I'm a man of my word. I told you I'd help you see this through and I meant it." She closed her eyes, her breaths sounding louder than normal to her inside the suit.

"I'm so sorry about what I said before... back at the Memory Den? I... I was scared, but.... you're my friend..." she murmured, trying not to tear up.  The last thing she wanted to do was fog up the inside of her visor. She felt a metallic hand rest on her shoulder.

"You don't have to explain it to me, sweetheart," he told her, smiling gently. "C'mon - let's find this scientist before you turn into a puddle of irradiated goo."

She smiled, letting Hancock carry her for now. She hoped they were able to find Virgil before the radiation got to be too much for her. At least she knew, no matter what, she had two people she could rely on through thick and thin. That was enough to keep her pushing forward, even in a place as hopeless as the Glowing Sea.


	26. The Courser

To say that Abby felt intimidated speaking to Virgil was an understatement. In her head she initially pictured someone only slightly taller than her, thin, perhaps wearing glasses. A stereotypical scientist, perhaps someone who could pass as a twin for the tinkerers who gave the hero all their gadgets in the old spy movies. She knew it was, perhaps, a little naive of her to imagine him in this fashion, but what she truly hadn't expected was a towering super mutant. The glasses he wore, however, were certainly on point.

He was cold at first, believing the trio to somehow have ties to the Institute. If it had just been Abby and Hancock, perhaps he wouldn't have been suspicious, but the presence of Nick caused a degree of distrust. It took some convincing for him to trust that they weren't there to harm him. Abby still got the feeling that he was keeping on his toes as he handed her a tin mug of boiled water.

She was hesitant to remove her helmet, but her mouth was so dry-- she didn't think she could last much longer without having something to drink. Her Pip Boy seemed to indicate that the radiation wasn't as strong inside this place. Maybe she could breathe for just a few minutes?  She took the helmet off, taking in a deep breath as cool air hit her face.  The place smelled damp, but it was almost comforting in an odd way.  She felt her suit unzip as Hancock pulled it back far enough to reach her arm.  There was a slight pinch as he injected her with a dose of Rad-Away.

"Careful using that stuff," Virgil grumbled as he walked back over to his terminal. "Too much and you'll start experiencing hair loss and stomach ulcers."

"...oh," was all Abby could choke out as she swallowed some of the water, the liquid quenching her throat. Mercy hadn't noted _those_ side effects.

"Will you blow it out your ass?" Hancock scoffed at the scientist. "She doesn't take enough at a time for that. Stop scarin' her."

Virgil shrugged, punching a few buttons and pulling a keyboard out, quickly typing something onto the nearby console. He cursed under his breath as his large fingers hit multiple keys at once, causing him to have to backspace multiple times. He seemed more concerned about what he was typing than with upsetting his guests. Abby knew, though, that she would now feel worried over the idea of her hair falling out every time her head itched. Well, at least then she wouldn't have to worry about it being such a pain to brush.

"So if you're not here to kill me, why _are_  you here?" Virgil finally asked.

"I...I need help finding out how to get into the Institute," she replied after finishing off her mug.

"I'm sorry?" Virgil asked, looking up from the console, peering over his glasses in a perplexed manner, "But...  _what_?"

"I'm...I'm sorry, it's just...you're the only lead we could find," she tried to explain. "Kellogg's dead and we don't know anyone else who knows how to get in there..."

He pressed a finger on the bridge of his glasses, nudging them back up his nose.

"You're insane for coming here," he lectured her. "Even more so for wanting to go into the _Institute_  of all places."

All of her arguments seemed to feel moot as she opened her mouth to explain herself.

"I know. I'm sorry," was all she was able to muster, looking down at the empty mug in her hands. This was a stupid idea. She was risking her neck just by being here, and for what? The chance to enter a place where her son _might_  be? Where she didn't even have a clue as to what was waiting for her? She didn't even know if he was still alive, let alone how she was going to get him out once she got there--if it was even possible for her to get there.

Hancock put his arm around her protectively, glaring at the super mutant.

"Now wait just a minute," he growled between gritted teeth, "After all the shit she's gone through to get here--even doing your ass a favor by killing the man sent to off ya, and you got the nerve to talk to her like that? Just where do you get off--"

"John." Nick stood up, gesturing for him to calm down. "Look, she's just trying to find her kid."

"Oh..." Virgil deflated, looking ashamed of himself, "Oh no...I had no idea. I'm sorry. The Institute...yeah, they've taken people in the past," he admitted. "If your kid's one of them? I can't blame you for trying to get them back."

Abby ran a thumb idly up and down the side of the tin mug.

"Then...you'll help us...?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed, straightening up. "I won't lie--it's not easy, and even if you succeed, it'll almost certainly result in your death. But...if you're willing to take that risk, I won't stop you. All I ask is a favor."

"I'd say she already did you a pretty big favor by killing Kellogg," Nick pointed out.

"I know," Virgil retorted, "and I'm grateful for that, but this is important. Before I had to escape, I was working on a serum that would serve as a cure for my...condition," he explained. "I wasn't able to bring it with me. It's still in my lab, and...well, look at me. I need it. If you manage to get inside the Institute and live to tell about it, I need you to find it for me."

Abby looked up at the scientist. She couldn't imagine what it must feel like to live in the body of a super mutant when one's mind was still very much intact. He fumbled with even the simplest tasks. And if he wanted to live somewhere else, who would take him in? With their history of violence, super mutants weren't exactly trusted among the Commonwealth. He may have come off as critical, rude even, but he was still a person. The Institute had hurt him, too, after all.

"I can't promise that I'll make it back, or that I'd even know where to look if I get in, but," she took in a deep breath, "I'll do what I can to find it. I promise." Virgil cracked a smile at her words. It seemed almost foreign to him, but it was there all the same.

"Right. Then let's get down to business," he decided, taking a seat across from her. "First things first. You know how synths get in and out of the Institute?"

"Yeah, they use some sort of teleporter thingy?" she replied. Nick gave her an amused look.

"Thingy? That a legal term you picked up?" he teased. Abby's face turned red.

"....Yes. Yes it is," she snorted, smiling cheekily in response.

"Well, you've at least done your homework," Virgil acknowledged. "We refer to it as the 'Molecular Relay'. 'Teleporter thingy' has a better ring to it, though," his smile widened a little more, as though he was just now remembering after all this time what it was like to feel humored. "I don't understand all the science behind it, but it works. De-materializes you in one place, re-materializes you in another. I'm sure it sounds crazy, but it's a reality."

"That...uh...doesn't sound pleasant?" Abby twitched. "Don't suppose they have a back door they take the trash out through?"

"Afraid not," he replied. "The Relay is the only way in and out of the Institute. The _only_ one. That means if you want in, you're going to have to use it."

"Great. Super," she sighed, leaning back in her seat. "So what do I need to do to use it?"

"Kill a Courser," he replied.

"Courser? I don't know what that is, but...how hard can that be?" she wondered. Virgil snorted a small laugh.

"Coursers are Institute synths, designed for one purpose: they're hunters," he explained. "Operations go wrong, a synth goes missing, and a Courser is dispatched. They're _very_ good at what they do. And killing one? I'm not gonna lie-- the odds aren't in your favor."

"Of course it's not," Abby groaned, slumping forward to rub her temples. "Next thing you're gonna tell me is that they have a gun that fires deathclaws."

"Not quite, but they might as well," Virgil pointed out. "Going up against a Courser is no joke."

"Not to interrupt," Valentine interjected, "But how’s killing one supposed to get us into the Institute?"

"Every Courser has special hardware that gives them a direct connection to the Relay in the Institute. It's embedded in a chip in their heads. You need that chip."

"Right, so no bashing in heads this time?" Valentine noted, eyeing Abby. She ducked her head sheepishly.

"Still don't regret it..." she muttered under her breath.

"Now, I don't know exactly where you can find one," Virgil noted, ignoring the banter. "They haven't sent any after me, and sitting here waiting doesn't seem like a good plan, so you're going to have to hunt one down. The primary insertion point for Coursers is in the ruins of CIT, directly above the Institute; so you'll want to head there."

"So what? We just stand around CIT and wait for one to pop by and say 'hi'?" Hancock questioned.

"....No. If you'd let me finish?" Virgil grumpily replied. "The Relay causes some pretty heavy interference all across the EM spectrum. That Pip-Boy, it has a radio, right?" he asked, pointing to Abby's arm. She had fastened the device outside of her hazmat suit in order to better monitor radiation levels.

"Uh...yeah, though the reception's kinda shitty?" she noted.

"Doesn't matter--when you get to the ruins, tune it to the lower end of the band and listen in. You'll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it'll lead you to a Courser. Then you just have to...not get killed."

"Easy enough." She smiled weakly, fixing her helmet back in place before getting up. She was exhausted and honestly just wanted to curl up and sleep, but the last thing she desired was spending any more time in a place that was making her sicker by the minute.

"If you do make it, remember what I said about the serum. I need it. Badly," Virgil emphasized as the three started to gather up their equipment to head back out into the Glowing Sea.

"Don't worry," she told him. She paused near where he was sitting, reaching out and settling a reassuring hand on his arm. "So long as I have any say in it? I'll get you that serum. I won't leave there alive without it. I promise."

He seemed taken aback by her words, but straightened up, nodding quietly. She moved along, heading past the turrets at the entrance.

"Hey, kid?" he asked before she walked any further. She looked back over her shoulder at him. "I...I really do hope you find what you're looking for."

She smiled quietly, though it couldn't be seen through her hazmat helmet.

"So do I," she murmured before disappearing out into the wasteland.

***

Abby almost tripped over her own feet as she ran up the staircase in the old Greentech Genetics building. The Courser managed to keep a few steps ahead, just out of sight of her and her companions. The entire place was overrun by Gunners, making it that much more difficult to press forward. Hearing frantic yelling over the intercom gave her bits and pieces of what was going on. The Gunners seemed to be fighting off the Courser--and failing miserably. In spite of the fact that they both had a common enemy, the Gunners shot at the three aggressively. So much for taking a peaceful, quiet approach. She regained her footing, making it up the remainder of the stairs.

"The Courser's after the girl!" a voice called out over the intercom. "Anyone alive needs to get up to the top floor immediately-- that's an order!"

Who was this girl? A hostage? A member of the Gunners? More importantly, why was the Courser after her? Abby didn't have time to ponder too long about it. For now, her main concern was obtaining the Courser chip. Shaun-- and now Virgil--were relying on her for it. She couldn't let them down.

They paused every so often when coming across computer terminals. Having Nick along was a boon as he used his computer skills to hack in and reprogram the Gunner's turret system to target the very people it was designed to protect. It beat having to fire cautiously around corners and play grenade toss with their enemies.

As they pushed through another doorway, they came face to face with a man dressed in a long, black coat.

"Give me the code," he said in a calm, cold tone to a Gunner who was slumped up against the wall, blood pooling underneath.

"I told you-- I don't know it, and even if I did I wouldn't give it to you!" the Gunner spat back. The man in black held a gun to the Gunner's head.

"Stop!" Abby called out, against her better judgment. She pointed her rifle at the man in black, intending to shoot if he didn't back off. Maybe the Gunners weren't exactly on her side, but she wasn't going to just watch someone who was already subdued get shot in the head. The man pulled his gun away from his victim's head, walking over to Abby. She took a step back, keeping a firm grip on her rifle. She wasn't entirely certain what to do. Should she fire on him? He was getting closer--most people at least stopped at this point?

"Are you here for the synth?" the man questioned, tone still as calm as before. Something about him didn't settle well with her. Without even asking, she knew exactly who--or what-- he must be.

"Well, I'm here for _a_ synth...but I'm guessing you mean someone other than you?" she questioned.

"She's a fugitive," he answered, not seeming the least bit concerned that the people in front of him were here for him--or that he had three weapons pointed in his vicinity. "Runaway Institute property." The term 'property' made Abby's blood boil. He said it so casually, as though he were referring to a common household appliance rather than someone who was capable of thinking and feeling.

"What do you plan to do with her?" Abby asked. She didn't know why, but she already felt bad for this girl. She was being hunted, and for what? Because she didn't want to be part of the Institute? If this is what the Institute did to their own kind, then...

"I'm shutting her down and bringing her back," he replied simply. "You, on the other hand, will die like the rest of them."

Before any of them had a chance to respond, the Courser took a device out of his pocket. The only sound it made was a light clicking before he suddenly disappeared. Another fucking stealthboy.

Abby quickly darted in the direction of a nearby filing cabinet. Bullets whirled past her ear. If she didn't already have tinnitus, she did now. She stumbled, hurriedly pulling herself behind the cabinet by her arms. She slumped with her back against it, biting her lip firmly as her ears rang.

"John?! Nick?!" she shouted out from behind her cover, worried about whether or not they were hurt.

"I'm okay!" Hancock called back from across the room. No answer from Nick. She started to feel sick to her stomach.

"NICK?!" she tried again. Still no response. She peered around the cabinet just in time to witness the light show. Electricity pulsed through the Courser, destroying his stealth barrier. Nick stood not too far away, another pulse grenade in hand. He wouldn't need to use it, however. Abby took full advantage of the opportunity, carefully aiming and taking the shot just below the Courser's chin. She couldn't risk damaging the chip--assuming it hadn't been destroyed by the electrical current.

The force of the shot caused his head to snap back. He fell to the ground, blood pooling under him. If she didn't know any better, she would have guessed she had just killed a genuine human being. Everything about him was flesh, blood, and bone. She cautiously approached, almost worried that he was playing possum like many of the feral ghouls she had encountered. Fortunately, the synth truly was no more. She knelt down, twitching as she took out a knife and started to awkwardly pry open his skull.

"Ya need a hand with that?" Hancock offered, leaving his cover and moving over to assist her.

"...I...it's...it's okay..." she replied, trying to put on a brave face. There was a good reason why she eventually abandoned all fanciful dreams of going into veterinary medicine. Not being able to easily stomach something like this was pretty much it. She was becoming desensitized to blood, guts, and dismemberment these days, but she still wasn't quite ready to go digging through someone's gray matter to retrieve a chip. Luckily, her lover obliged, getting out his knife and carving into the skull like a Thanksgiving turkey.

"Jackpot!" he grinned, pulling out a metallic piece. It was covered in goop. Abby looked away, coughing.

"Can...can you maaaybe clean that off?" she asked.

"What's wrong, doll? You carried the last one around for a few weeks without so much as batting an eye," Nick spoke up from nearby. "Sorry if I worried you, by the way--was trying to get the drop on him."

"It's...it's fine..." she murmured, getting up and scratching at her coat sleeve. She wasn't upset, but she still felt a little shaken by everything.

"Um...excuse me...?" a small voice came from nearby. Abby looked over at a window. Metallic blinds separated her from a small woman who stood on the other side, hands clutched meekly. This was a welcome distraction to Abby, who approached the window to get a better look. Was this the synth that the Courser had been so desperate to get to? She was quite certain she had to be.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" Abby asked, keeping her tone gentle and nonthreatening.

"He...He deserved to die..." the woman replied, ignoring the question.

"...Not really my place to say what he deserved," Abby argued, "But he didn't exactly leave us much choice..."

"Not to mention the fact we kinda needed the contents of his head?" Hancock pointed out in an overly upbeat tone. Abby side-eyed him harshly. Now was really not the time...

"I-I know you're not here for me," the woman spoke up, "but...I can't get out. Not...not on my own." Abby smiled at her.

"You can trust us. We promise not to hurt you," she tried to reassure her. It couldn't have helped that she just witnessed the three of them killing people on the other side of that window, but Abby wasn't sure what she could do to prove she wasn't a threat.

"I…I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?" the woman replied. "The guard put the password in a toolbox over there under the stairs. You'll need it to open the door."

Abby glanced over at a small toolbox nearby. Seriously? Did people in the future have no concept of how to properly secure a password?

"Ten caps says it's got either Guest or Password in it," she informed Nick as he walked over and opened the toolbox. He pulled out a strip of paper, reading it before smirking and holding it up for everyone else to see. _Password101_.

"Really, what the hell...?" Abby sighed, punching the code into the nearby console. A click could be heard before the door opened.

"Thank you...I...I don't know what to say..." the woman told her as Abby stood aside to let her out.

"Well... your name would be a start?" Abby replied. The woman hugged her arms around herself.

"My...Institute designation is K1-98," she murmured meekly, "But I prefer Jenny."

"You okay, Jenny?" Abby asked, feeling concerned. "Do you need help? Will other Coursers come after you?" Jenny shook her head.

"I...I knew they'd send a Courser, but I didn't think he'd find me so fast. I think I would have lost him if I hadn't been captured by these...mercenaries," she explained. "I think...I think I'll be okay? Thanks for your help. I'm sure I can outrun any others sent after me. I'll just look for some supplies before heading out..."

Abby frowned, worrying about the girl. Before she had a chance to ask, though, her thoughts were interrupted.

"I don't need any more help," Jenny told her. "The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I need to make it on my own or I'm dead."

"You could always come with us?" Hancock suggested with a smile. "You'd fit in with us other outcasts in Goodneighbor, ya know." Jenny shook her head, still looking uncertain.

"Thank you for offering but...I just...I need to go," she insisted, heading towards the door that they had entered from. "But..." she paused, "Maybe we'll meet again, under better circumstances?" She gave a small smile, "At least...I hope we do."

She departed, not lingering for any longer than necessary. Abby remained standing, feeling heartbroken for the synth. It hadn't occurred to her previously how there might be some synths trapped at the Institute who didn't want any part of it. Nick had been discarded, but what about the others who were still there? If they had thoughts and feelings just like Nick, then it stood to reason that some might want to live lives of their own.

Her thoughts were interrupted as a hand rested on her shoulder. She looked over to see Nick offering her a comforting smile.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's get back to Dr. Amari," he told her. She forced a smile, nodding.

As they headed for the door, she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see the injured Gunner from earlier trying to awkwardly bandage himself. She frowned, walking over. The man looked up, scrambling backwards.

"Look--you got what you came for-- just fucking leave!" he hissed at her. Abby knelt down, opening her satchel and pulling out a couple of Stimpaks. She passed them over, confusion coloring the man's face. She didn't say anything else, simply zipping up the pack and reshouldering it, returning to where her companions awaited her.

"...Yeah, okay, whatever-- just don't fucking come back!" she heard the Gunner yell as she departed from the room. She smiled quietly to herself. She no longer even cared whether or not the people she helped were grateful. It just brought her a little bit more satisfaction in knowing she helped out in a place that was, as Jenny would put it, as unforgiving as the Commonwealth.


	27. The Old North Church

The dilapidated remains of the Old North Church seemed almost ominous as Abby stood outside. If anything still lived in there, surely it wasn't anything pleasant. It had been a shot in the dark coming there, but the only feasible suggestion Doctor Amari had to decode the courser chip that they had retrieved was to try and track down an organization known as "The Railroad". Abby had heard the name mentioned among the population of Goodneighbor and Diamond City, but in such a way that it sounded like a mere enigma - an urban legend that had as much credibility as the stories of Ol' Peg, the ghoul whale. Still, Amari insisted that it was real. Hancock backed up the idea, seeming to imply that he knew more than he was letting on about it. 

"Follow the Freedom Trail" was the only clue that any of them had as to the location of the Railroad. It seemed simple enough, but winding through an area filled with raiders and super mutants was no picnic. Ultimately, the path ended at the church. Looking at it, however, Abby had her doubts that anything helpful still remained inside. That feeling only manifested itself all the more as the two stepped past the entryway, closing the door as gently as possible as to not raise any suspicion. 

"Damn..." Hancock whistled as they looked around. "Old girl's seen better days."

That was quite the understatement. The place was littered with dirt and debris. The balcony overhead had collapsed onto the wooden pews below, leaving splinters and broken, rotting boards. While no lights seemed to work any longer, a generous amount of sunlight trickled through the windows and holes in the roof, illuminating enough of the place to at least get a good view of it. Dust danced along the light, swirling and dancing about. Abby inhaled enough of it to trigger a sneeze, the sound echoing in the abandoned building. 

Well... if she had been lucky, it would have been abandoned. The sound of her sinuses disagreeing stirred the current residents of the church. Growling and groaning could be heard as bony hands clenched around the edges of the benches, half-decayed faces glaring in the smoothskin's direction. 

"Ferals..." Hancock hissed, gripping his shotgun, "It had to be ferals..."

Abby had already taken a few steps back towards the entrance. The longer she looked around, the more she realized just how surrounded they were. Three... five... no... nine ghouls? Nope, that was too many. She reached behind her for the door. Before she had a chance to fully retreat, Hancock bolted on ahead, firing rounds into his feral brethren. Abby let out a sigh, cringing. She wasn't about to leave Hancock by himself, even if he was fully capable of handling everything on his own. She took a deep breath, holding it as she marched forward, crouching and taking aim.

After a few shots, she started to ease up. She could do this... she knew she could. So long as they just stayed far enough away...

She felt something grab her from behind. She jerked away, spinning around to find herself face-to-face with one of the ferals. There were more crawling out of the nearby debris. She tried to let out a scream - anything to let Hancock know that she was in trouble. Her fear caused the cry to die in her throat, nothing but a sputter and a whimper as she tried to back away, tripping over her own feet and landing painfully to the ground. She fired wildly in the direction of the ferals, hoping that at least one of her shots landed. 

The sound of shotgun blasts nearby accompanied blood-splatter as the heads of the ferals literally exploded above her, their bodies flopping lifelessly to the floor. It took willpower for her to not fire off a shot as she looked up to see another ghoulish face. The flash of crimson from the coat gave her pause, realizing it was Hancock standing over her. 

"You okay, Sunshine?" he asked, helping her up. Abby's hands were still shaking, but she nodded. "Thought you were gonna shoot me for a minute," he grinned, rubbing her back. Abby didn't reply, feeling guilty and honestly horrified that she almost did just that. Hancock didn't seem to dwell too much on it, thankfully, looking around for any sign of more ferals. 

"There's... there's no way anyone could be set up here...!" Abby pointed out, feeling frustrated that they had wasted their time. 

"Don't give up just yet," he noted, ducking under a fallen wooden beam as he looked around. "Gotta be something.... ah - here!" 

Abby rushed to catch up to him. She found him standing in front of a passageway that appeared to lead down under the church. It still didn't bode well to her to go into an even darker area in a place where literal monsters were dwelling, but she couldn't consider the lead a dead end until she had explored all possible options. Chewing on her lip, she nodded to Hancock to take the lead, following closely behind. 

Just as she suspected, more ferals roamed about in the tunnel. Hancock made quick work of them, but the constant jump-scares of having the creatures reach out of the darkness in an attempt to grab her certainly didn't give her confidence that they were making the best decision by continuing further into darkness. Her doubts started to clear a little as she saw a light around the bend. On the wall was a large bronze seal of the Boston Freedom Trail. It resembled the ones that the two had followed to get to the North Church. Abby reached up, pressing her hand against the middle of the seal. It moved, allowing her to push it into the wall before slowly popping back out. She hummed curiously. It was some sort of puzzle, but how did it work?

Hancock reached around, messing with it as well. 

"Hey, this part moves, see?" he pointed out, the letters around the edge rotating around. "Maybe spell out a password or something?"

The symbol in the middle had an arrow that could be used to point to a letter. The only letters that were available to work with, however, were A, B, D, E, F, H, I, L, M, N, O, R, S, and T. If not for this fact, Abby's first instinct would have been trying to spell out "Password", as that had worked so far with the Commonwealth's wonderful sense of security in regard to computer consoles. She took a step back and stared at it for a moment. There had been letters spray-painted on the symbols leading them to the church, which had spelled out "Railroad". But really? Railroad as a password to access a secret organization known as "The Railroad"? Surely nobody was that dim. Still...

She worked the dial like a combination lock, moving it left and right until the word was spelled out. She then pressed in the middle button. A loud noise caused her to jump back in surprise as the nearby wall began to open up to reveal a secret passageway.

"..... I hate the Commonwealth," she sighed, rubbing at her eyes. Hancock merely snickered in amusement, his thoughts similar to hers over the choice in code word. Abby stepped through the passageway, peering around carefully. She could hear some shuffling ahead of her in the darkness. More ferals, most likely. She moved her finger to rest on her rifle's trigger, readying herself for the likelihood that more of the unpleasant creatures would jump out at her.

Suddenly, she was blinded as bright searchlights were turned on, shining directly in her eyes, a few figures standing behind it. The unexpected occurrence caused Abby to jerk backwards, her finger hitting the trigger and firing off a round. The shot managed to hit one of the figures in the arm.

"Fuck...!" a voice yelled out. Before Abby could assess what had just occurred, she found a spray of bullets being fired in her vicinity. Hancock grabbed hold of her coat, pulling her back behind a pile of rubble. 

"Keep down! Those weren't ferals!" he growled, as though he weren't stating the obvious.

Abby kept her head ducked low as she heard the sound of bullets whirling overhead. Soon, the firing died down. 

"... you... you think it's safe...?" she murmured to Hancock.

"Do *you* wanna be the one who sticks your head out to check?" he questioned. 

"Well, no! But we can.... maybe use something to wave them down with to let them know we're surrendering... maybe your hat?" she suggested. Hancock's gave her a deadpan expression.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

"Well, I'm not using *my* hat! Kent might have an aneurysm if he has to patch it up anymore than he already has!" she argued. 

"You two going to come out, or keep on chit-chatting?!" a second unfamiliar voice called over. Abby exchanged glances with Hancock before yelling out in reply.

"We're not here to cause trouble!"

"... You SHOT me in the fucking ARM!" the first voice argued.

"It was an ACCIDENT!" Abby called back. "I'm really, REALLY sorry!"

Her words were met with silence for a brief moment before the second voice spoke up again.

"Come out, keep your hands up. We won't shoot."

Abby moved to get up before being jerked back down by Hancock.

"You seriously gonna take them at their word? They just tried to shoot our heads off!"

"Because we shot at them first, John!"

"Well.. *you* shot at them first. I practiced basic trigger safety."

Abby stuck her tongue out at him. "C'mon, if they're the Railroad we can trust them, right? I mean, they owe you one if that's who they are... right?"

Hancock wrinkled his brow, but let go of her arm. "Lemme go first," he requested, shifting to stand up before she had the chance to argue. He held his hands up high, leaving his shotgun behind as he stepped out from the debris. 

"Well, fuck me..." the second voice commented with a small snort of a laugh. "Mayor Hancock? Not who I expected to see."

"Yeah, well, I don't make a habit of crawling through dark tunnels like a molerat," Hancock grinned, looking over at where Abby was still crouched. He nodded to her, signaling that it was safe. 

She cautiously stood up, peeking over the rubble. There were three people that she could now clearly see since her eyes had better adjusted to the light. The first one was clearly the person she had shot - a woman with white hair who was gripping a bloodied arm, looking not too pleased. At her feet was what appeared to be a minigun, leaving Abby to question how strong she had to be if that was her weapon of choice. The second figure was a slightly shorter woman with medium-length brown hair. She wore a flannel scarf around her neck and had a pistol in hand, though it was now lowered as she spoke with Hancock. The third figure was a man wearing a newsboy cap. He kept his gun pointed in Abby's direction. It unnerved her enough to convince her to put her hands up.

"She with you, I take it?" the second woman asked. 

"Yeah, you can say that," Hancock replied in a cheeky tone, causing Abby to blush. The woman hummed, but nodded, gesturing for the man next to her to lower his gun. 

"You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting," she pointed out, "But before we go any further, answer my questions. Why did you shoot Glory?"

Abby cringed, lowering her hands since she no longer had a weapon pointed in her direction. "I-it was an accident...! I thought she was a feral ghoul!" she tried to explain. 

"Sunshine here has a twitchy trigger finger when she gets into dark places packed to the rim with ferals," Hancock noted, looking thoroughly amused by the turn of events. 

"Do I *look* like a ghoul?" the woman, who Abby now knew was named 'Glory', asked. 

"Well, n-no... but it was dark and then you shined that stupid light on me and I just... I'm sorry! I really am!" she blabbered. Glory exchanged glances with the woman next to her. While they didn't say a word, the expressions almost seemed as though they were wondering if Abby was for real. 

".... alright. Next question, then. Who the hell are you?"

Abby didn't know why, but she felt she could trust this person with enough information about herself. After all, it wasn't' as though the entire Commonwealth didn't know about her thanks to Piper's articles making their circulation around the major cities. 

"My name is Abigail Fisher... I'm... I'm just looking for my kid," she explained. "I... I was told that the Railroad could maybe help, so... I followed the way here."

The woman glanced over at Hancock.

"While it's true that we do a great deal of operations in Goodneighbor, to my knowledge we've never flat-out told the Mayor how to find us. Who told you how to contact us?"

"Doctor Amari - she said if anyone could help us, it would be you, so... she just told us to follow the Freedom Trail. We... we didn't mean any harm coming here, I promise!"

The woman holstered her weapon, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. "Jittery little thing. You can calm down - if all of that's true? You have nothing to fear from us." Abby let her shoulders slouch a touch, trying not to seem as on edge as she felt. "I'm Desdemona," the woman introduced, "and I'm the leader of the Railroad. And you..."

Desdemona was interrupted as a man with short, black hair wearing a pair of sunglasses stepped through the open tunnel behind her. 

"You're having a party?" he asked, "What gives with my invitation?"

"... Deacon, where have you been?" Desdemona asked, looking nonplussed with his presence. Not answering her question, Deacon grinned at Abby, lowering his glasses to get a better look at her.

"Oh, I see you invited the Courser-killer. Nice!" he chimed. This seemed to catch Desdemona off-guard as she arched a brow at him.

"You're saying this intruder actually killed a Courser? Single-handedly? Shit... that'd give even Glory a run for her money."

"Well.... John helped...!" Abby pointed out. Hancock waved, grin widening. Abby reached into her pocket, pulling out the Courser chip for Desdemona to see. "I... well, we recovered this from the Courser? That's why Doctor Amari sent us to you. She... she said you could maybe decode it for us? Help us find out where they took my son?" Desdemona rubbed at the bridge of her nose, seeming not quite certain as to what to make of the new information.

"Yeah, news flash, boss," Deacon continued, "This lady is kiiiind of a big deal. If you're done interrogating her, you might want to show this Courser-murdering machine a little courtesy. Just a thought," he winked at Abby before pushing his shades back in place. Abby could feel her face turning bright red with embarrassment. Sure, she, Hancock, and Nick had managed to take down a Courser, but it somehow felt like everyone was blowing it up to be a bigger deal than it truly was. It was more dumb luck than anything in her mind. Still, Deacon's words seemed to work their magic as Desdemona turned back to Abby, expression softened slightly.

"I owe you an apology. Anyone who kills a Courser is good in my book." She held out her hand for the chip. Abby hesitated, not feeling inclined to part from the one thing that could possibly tell her where Shaun was. 

"It stays with us 'til we get answers, yeah?" Hancock made clear. Desdemona shook her head.

"What you're asking puts us in a tricky position. We can't just let you in. We'll get you the information, but you'll have to trust us."

"No deal. We've gone through hell to get this far and ain't gonna let it out of our sight," Hancock argued.

"Dez," Deacon spoke up, "We *need* to let her in! She's got an intact Courser Chip, for God's sake!"

"That violates our security protocols!" she snipped back. Deacon refused to back down.

"To hell with that!" he spat. "She killed a Courser! There's no way she's working for the Institute!"

Desdemona massaged the bridge of her nose, as though Deacon's argument had caused her quite the migraine. 

".... Fine." she decided, gesturing for Abby and Hancock to follow her. She turned and headed into a tunnel. Abby and Hancock moved to follow her. As they passed by Glory, Abby ducked her head sheepishly. She muttered a quick apology to the woman, hoping that she hadn't completely messed things up with her actions. 

The man wearing the newsboy hat stood in the tunnel, gun fixed on the two strangers. 

"Don't try anything," he warned them. 

"Great knowing we're so trusted," Hancock teased, trying to cheer Abby up. She gave him a half-hearted smile as they continued down the tunnel. Neither of them were quite sure what lied on the other side, but it had to be better than fighting ferals back up on the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's been over a year since I updated! My apologies - writer's block has been kicking me along with other RL issues! Thank you to those who have continued to leave comments and kudos on my work - it really has inspired me to keep pushing to try and continue this work! Even though I probably have lost most of my readerbase, I do plan to continue this fic to the very end, no matter how long that might take!
> 
> As a sidenote on this chapter: it's based off of what occurred when I first entered the Railroad base in-game. I was so skiddish because of all the feral ghouls, I had my finger on the trigger of the controller. As soon as that spotlight flashed on, I jerked back and accidentally shot Glory in the arm. I then had to pause the game and Google how to get friendly NPCs to stop firing at me. Good times!


End file.
